


An Intangible Force of Motion

by doeinstinct



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Brief Mention of Blood, Canon Compliant, Chronic Illness, Chronic Pain, Concussions, Cuddling & Snuggling, Denial, Emotional Support, Established Relationship, Fluff, Guilt, Hospitals, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Lack of Communication, M/M, Minor Injuries, Mutual Support, Panic Attacks, Post-Canon, Queerplatonic Relationships, Romance, Self-Doubt, Vaguely Non-Linear Timeline, but only for a little bit, competitions, flashbacks are just really important to the narrative structure, hyperventilation, post season one, super super brief i promise, terms of endearment, they makeout a little bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-09-14 02:17:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 76,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9153136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doeinstinct/pseuds/doeinstinct
Summary: The new season is in full-swing, and Viktor is realizing just how much work it is to coach and compete, but the exhilaration is worth it. The pain in his leg is probably just from overworking. Probably.(Or the post-season one continuation fic no one really asked for.)Перевод на русский (Russian Translation)





	1. Viktor Returns: Grand Prix Series Qualifiers! Skate Canada Free Skate!!

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Неуловимая сила движения](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11123307) by [helenbeauty01](https://archiveofourown.org/users/helenbeauty01/pseuds/helenbeauty01)



“Please welcome our last skater on the ice, Viktor Nikiforov of Russia, who is in first place after his short program performance last night,” the commentator said over a hushed crowd.

Viktor skated to the center of the ice and took his position, waiting for the music to start. “Nikiforov made his return after the Grand Prix Final last season, and seems almost completely unchanged by the time he took off while coaching his fiancé, Yuuri Katsuki of Japan, much to his fans’ relief.”

The music started softly, building up as Viktor glided across the ice, spinning and drawing in the crowd’s rapt attention.

“He has four quads planned, the first is a quad toe loop.”

_“That’s enough for today. You need to rest,” Yakov said at their last practice as Viktor leaned over to catch his breath against the boards beside him._

_“Just one more, I can still do better,” he insisted._

_“You need to uphold your duty as a coach, as well, Vitya. You’ve done enough today.”_

_Viktor bit his lip and nodded as he stared down at the ice, fingers grasping the boards until his knuckles blanched._

“Nice height on that toe loop. Nikiforov said that this program was inspired by his fiancé. His theme this season is ‘strength.’”

Viktor grimaced as he landed a triple lutz, a dull pain pulsing up his leg and down to his knee. Maybe he landed strangely. He focused instead on pushing off the ice into a camel spin and dropping into a sit spin. As he rose to his full height, he could hardly hear the sound of the applause over the roaring of blood in his ears. “He’s planned a quad-triple combination here, starting with his signature quad flip.”

Viktor set up for his flip, heart jumping into his throat as he took a deep breath.

_He met the ice in a flash of noise and sharp, aching pain. A soft groan escaped his lips as he pushed himself up on his knees and shook his head, massaging his right thigh to ease the aching he felt._

_“Viktor!” Yuuri shouted as he dropped down to his side to check him over, his hands flailing slightly, unsure where he should put them. Viktor laughed breathlessly at the slight flush on Yuuri’s cheeks._

_“I do fall sometimes, Yuuri,” he said._

_Yuuri shook his head, his longer bangs falling over his eyes as he pursed his lips and braced his hands on his knees._

_“No, I know that. I just...I’ve never seen you fall on a flip before.”_

_Viktor’s chest tightened at that and he looked down at the ice. He knew that he was being too quiet for too long, but it was dawning on him just how long it had been since he fell doing a flip. He could feel Yuuri’s eyes boring into him and managed to force out a quiet laugh, unable to form any other response._

_He looked up into Yuuri’s soft brown eyes, smiling and reaching out to caress his jaw with feather-light fingertips._

_“Thank you for caring about me, Yuuri,” he hummed, watching as Yuuri’s cheeks flushed deeper and he looked around the rink, as if someone would have entered without their knowledge at such a late hour. When he turned back, he gave a small smile and nodded._

_“Of course.”_

_He reached out his hand as he stood back up, the gold band around his finger reflecting off of the fluorescent lights in the rink. Viktor accepted his help and steadied himself on his skates once he was up, brushing snow off his pants and shoulder. “We should go home now, it’s getting late and we’re both tired.”_

_Viktor pouted, eyes narrowing as he looked Yuuri over._

_“Yuuri,” he warned. “We haven’t even been practicing for two hours, I know your stamina is better than that.”_

_Yuuri jumped, looking away and shrugging nervously. Viktor sighed, reminding himself that Yuuri was just worried about his health and nodded to him. “Run through your free program again, then we’ll go. The transition between the first and second half is still a little rough.”_

“Quadruple flip, triple toe-loop. Beautiful execution.”

Viktor’s chest loosened as he moved into a fast-paced step sequence and transitioned into the second half of his program. His body spun and sailed across the ice, heart pounding in his chest as he turned his body in preparation for his next quad.

_“Oi, old man, if you’re not going to skate then get off the ice,” Yuri jabbed as he skated forward to stand beside Viktor where he was breathing heavily against the boards. “Didn’t Yakov tell you take a break, anyway?”_

_“I can’t,” Viktor said, raising his head to send what he hoped was a reassuring smile in Yuri’s direction. “I need to work with Yuuri soon, so I can’t take a break yet.”_

_Yuri glared at him for a long moment before shoving a water bottle into his hand._

_“Take care of yourself, moron,” he said before skating away._

“Ah, looks like a slight over-rotation on the quad salchow, but he fought through it.”

The pain jolted up his leg before fading into the dull ache again. He frowned, maybe he had been overworking. Yuuri would probably yell at him. Yakov would force him to take a few days off. He just had to make sure his program was as good as possible.

His skates sliced through the ice as he flew through his last step sequence.

“He’s planned his final quad in a combination. Quadruple toe-loop, triple toe-loop, triple salchow. Oh, he touched down on the salchow, but it looked like there were enough rotations.”

Viktor could hardly focus on finishing his last combination spin as the pain returned, pulsing and throbbing up his leg and into his hip. He clumsily found his way to his final position, breathing heavily as the crowd exploded into cheers and applause. He blinked, shaking his head as the pain disappeared almost as suddenly as it had come on. He forced a charming smile as he waved and bowed to the audience.

He made a quick round of the rink, avoiding putting too much weight on his right leg just in case before he skated to the rink gate where Yakov was waiting for him. He expected the pinched look on his coach’s face, but it was less severe than he thought it would be.

He leaned down and picked up a small poodle plush as he neared the gate, holding it close to his chest. He accepted his skate guards from Yakov’s hand, sliding them on before stepping over the threshold. He slipped his arms into his warm-up jacket on their way toward the kiss and cry.

He could feel his heart hammering in his chest. It wasn’t his best performance, he knew that, but why didn’t Yakov look angrier? And what would Yuuri think? He was acutely aware of the gold band adorning his finger as he smiled to the cameras before him. He absently spun the ring with his thumb, trying to occupy his mind on something other than nerves.

His pain was completely gone, he noted, gently shifting his right leg to make sure, but felt nothing as he did.

“You look tired, Vitya,” Yakov said, holding onto Viktor’s poodle-shaped tissue box holder. Viktor’s shoulders were tense as he stared at the scoreboard. Yakov tried to remember the last time he had seen Viktor so visibly nervous while he waited for scores.

Viktor didn’t respond, hugging the plush he had picked up from the ice closer to his chest.

“The score for Viktor Nikiforov, please,” a pleasant voice called over the speakers, effectively bringing the crowd to utter silence. Viktor was holding his breath, and Yakov felt his frown deepening at the sight. “The score for Viktor Nikiforov is 206.77. His total score is 312.22.”

“Viktor Nikiforov takes the top spot by a margin of over ten points,” the commentator announced.

“The award ceremony will begin in ten minutes,” the soft voice said over the speakers a moment later.

Yakov looked at Viktor again, expecting to see relief but was met with the same tension that had coiled Viktor’s body once he stepped off the ice. He still wore a charming smile as he waved and thanked the crowd, but that just worried Yakov even more.

He would let it go for the time being. If it persisted, he would bring it up with Viktor when they weren’t in the middle of a competition. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

“Viktor!” Yuuri’s voice cut through the crowd as they were making their way out of the kiss and cry. Viktor’s head snapped toward the crowd and he was running before he even registered what he was doing.

His body collided with Yuuri’s, feeling warm arms wrapping around his back and holding him tightly. Yuuri allowed himself to be spun in a half-circle, laughing as Viktor’s cold nose pressed against his neck. “I know you need to get ready for the medal ceremony, I just…” he trailed off, cheeks flushing as he stepped back and ran his hands down Viktor’s arms to link their fingers. “You were beautiful out there.”

Viktor smiled, hoping none of his own doubts about his performance were showing in his expression. He squeezed Yuuri’s hands gently. “I almost forgot how much fun it is to watch you compete.”

Yuuri lifted his head quickly to smile up at him and he swore his heart nearly jumped out of his chest. All he could do was smile. Yuuri’s glasses were crooked. Viktor tried to keep his heart in check as he leaned down to peck Yuuri’s nose before untangling one of his hands and fixing his glasses, too.

“Thank you, Yuuri.”

His fiance’s face was deep red all the way up to his ears.

“U-um of course!” he said. He shook his head then, pushing on Viktor’s shoulders suddenly. “A-anyway! You have to go. Hurry, Yakov looks angry.”

“Aw, but Yuuri, he’s always angry!”

“Don’t make Yakov’s life difficult, Viktor,” Yuuri said sternly. Viktor pouted but nodded, shoving the poodle plush into Yuuri’s hands.

“Take care of Yuuchan, then.”

“ _Yuuchan_?”

Viktor smirked.

“You named your dog after me, it’s only fair I returned the favor, yes?”

Yakov dragged him away then, but he saw Yuuri press his face against the plush before he had to turn around. His ears were still red. Viktor smiled.

__

_Viktor looked up as he heard the distinctive sound of a body colliding with ice. He made his way out of the locker room and into the rink. It was well into the evening, and he had assumed that the rink would be empty._

_When he looked onto the ice, he frowned._

_“Damn it!” Yuri shouted, slamming his fist down as he did. His hair was covering his face, but Viktor was sure there were frustrated tears there._

_“Yurio?” he asked softly, stepping into the rink and moving toward him, skates still half-laced. “Are you skating alone?”_

_“Go away, Viktor!”_

_“This rink isn’t yours, you know,” Viktor said, watching as Yuri glared up at him, ferocious and dangerous like a wounded animal._

_“Just...go away already.”_

_Viktor hummed, kneeling down to regard Yuri at eye level._

_“Do you mean from the rink or skating altogether?”_

_Yuri didn’t respond, turning his head away and reaching up to wipe his face on his arm. “Come on, you’ll freeze your hands if you keep sitting on the ice like that.” Viktor reached out to slowly take Yuri’s wrist in a loose hold and pull him up to his feet again._

_“I don’t need you to babysit me.”_

_“Then it’s a good thing that’s not what I’m here to do, isn’t it?”_

_“Shouldn’t you be off with the pork cutlet bowl? I thought you two couldn’t stand to be away from each other.”_

_“It’s not like_ that. _We still need our time alone sometimes. Besides, Yuuri got dragged out with Mila. Something about not wanting to be a third wheel with Georgi and his new girlfriend.”_

_Yuri clicked his tongue. The silence stretched on between them as Viktor finished properly tying his skates and stepped back onto the ice. “You’ve gotten taller,” he said finally, skating around the rink to warm up. “Are you having trouble landing jumps now?”_

_Yuri’s silence was all he needed._

_“It happens to a lot of skaters, you know,” Viktor said. “Even I had to relearn some of my jumps and spins when I started getting taller.”_

_“Just shut up, old man! I can do my jumps just fine! I don’t need your help!” Yuri shouted, pushing himself into Viktor’s space with a sneer. Viktor just smiled softly with a brief sigh._

_“There’s nothing wrong with getting older, Yurio.”_

_“You’re the last person I want to hear that from,” Yuri seethed, turning away and building up momentum for a triple salchow. He crashed into the ground and let off a frustrated shout as he sat up._

_“You’re going to hurt yourself if you keep practicing like this.”_

_“I don’t want to hear that from you! You’re just as bad as me, aren’t you? You’re not even supposed to be practicing right now! You’re setting a pretty shitty example for the pork cutlet bowl as his coach!”_

_Viktor leaned back against the boards, laughing dryly._

_“You’re right, of course,” he said, voice soft and sending a jolt of emotion through Yuri’s chest. “But I can’t surprise him the way I’ve been performing. I don’t want to disappoint him.”_

_Yuri hated the feeling of his chest tightening the more Viktor spoke. He ground his teeth as he skated to Viktor’s side and glared at the side of his face._

_“Stop thinking of him as your fan and think of him as your fiancé, or whatever he is. He’ll be more disappointed if you have to retire again at the beginning of the season because you injured yourself trying to impress him. He...really cares about you...for more than just skating. Idiot. Don’t you see that?”_

_Viktor ran his fingers through his bangs, rubbing at his temples and letting his head fall back slightly._

_“And now you’re lecturing_ me _. It’s funny, no?”_

_“I’m going home,” Yuri growled, shoulder-checking Viktor on his way out of the rink. “You should, too.”_

_Viktor didn’t move from his place beside the rink gate, looking out over the ice with a pinched expression on his face. “Don’t make him worry about you more than he already does, asshole.”_

_Viktor just smiled at him, waving as he stomped into the locker room._

__

“Yuuri!” Viktor chimed once the medaling ceremony was over and he spotted the shorter man standing beside Yakov. He pulled his equipment bag behind him and practically launched it to a stop at Yakov’s feet. He grabbed Yuuri once he was close enough, wrapping his arms around his lean waist and pressing their bodies flush against each other. It was much easier to hug him without his skates on, and Viktor reveled in his radiant warmth.

Yuuri laughed softly, the poodle plush still held tightly in his hand as he hugged Viktor back.

“Vitya, the press is waiting,” Yakov said, effectively ending their moment and making Viktor pout into Yuuri’s shoulder.

“Come on, it’s not that bad,” Yuuri said, stepping back slightly and cupping Viktor’s jaw for a moment as he smiled. The sounds of cameras clicking drew their attention toward Yakov, where a group of reporters was waiting to speak to Viktor.

He threw on his camera smile, jovial and charming as he greeted the press and let them get closer than was strictly necessary.

“Mr. Nikiforov, do you believe that you can keep competitions and your private life separate since you will be skating against Yuuri Katsuki in the NHK this year?”

“Of course!” Viktor said. “I’ve wanted to skate against Yuuri since the GPF last year. As a competitor, Yuuri is an enticing challenge. But I’m still extremely proud as his coach and choreographer. I love Yuuri no matter what the results are. If he beats me, it’s just more reason to try again, no?”

The press laughed and Viktor squeezed Yuuri’s hand where they were still tangled at his side. Yuuri was smiling politely, waving and fielding a couple questions directed at him, mostly in Japanese.

“Mr. Nikiforov, are you planning to continue the season after the Grand Prix Finals?”

“Well, first I have to make it to the Finals,” he said, drawing laughter from the crowd, but feeling his own gut churn with worry. “But I do plan to compete in the European Championship and Worlds if I make it there.”

“Does this mean you’re going to continue to skate next season as well, Mr. Nikiforov?”

“I won’t comment on next season until this one is closer to being complete.”

“That’s all the questions we have time for,” Yakov said firmly, ushering Yuuri and Viktor away from the group and toward the exit.

__

Viktor awoke slowly a few days later, back in his and Yuuri’s apartment in St. Petersburg. Yuuri’s soft breaths were ruffling his hair and he smiled, nuzzling Yuuri’s body heat for a moment longer. He took a deep breath as he prepared himself to pull away and start a pot of coffee.

What he didn’t expect was the stiffness throughout his right hip and the tight ache down his thigh as he slipped his legs over the side of the bed.

He groaned softly, trying to move his leg in an attempt to ease the deep ache. He must be overdoing his practicing again. He really wasn’t sure he would be able to stand with the way his leg felt.

“Nn, Viktor?” Yuuri mumbled, voice husky as he barely hung onto consciousness.

“What is it, моё золотце?” Viktor asked, turning his head to shoot Yuuri a disarming smile. Yuuri smiled back, pushing himself up and grabbing his glasses off the nightstand. “Why don’t you sleep a bit longer?”

“No, it’s fine, I’m up now. Why are you sitting on the bed like that?” he asked once he registered that Viktor wasn’t moving from his seated position. He scooted across the bed as he spoke, reaching out to run his hands along Viktor’s shoulders and down his back. “Viktor?” he asked when his initial question was met with silence.

“It’s nothing, really,” Viktor said, smiling again. He reached out and pulled Yuuri toward him, tilting his head and pressing a soft kiss to Yuuri’s lips. Yuuri melted against him, closing his eyes and relishing the feeling of Viktor’s long fingers in his hair.

Viktor twisted slightly to make the kiss easier, but winced and hissed through his teeth softly as he did. Yuuri pulled away with a furrowed brow, looking Viktor up and down before his eyes widened.

“Viktor!” he gasped, tumbling out of the bed to stand in front of his fiancé, hands shaking as they gently brushed over his neck, shoulders, and arms. “What hurts? What’s going on? Should I call an ambulance?”

“Yuuri,” Viktor called, reaching his hand out to take Yuuri’s, rubbing his thumb along his knuckles slowly. “It’s okay. I think I just...overdid it at practice. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

Viktor nodded confidently. “Okay, stay there, I’m going to call Yakov.”

“But, Yuuri—!”

“Oh, no,” Yuuri scolded, turning to give Viktor a stern glare. “You’re _not_ going to practice today. If you push yourself too much, it’ll only make it worse.”

“But you need to practice! We leave for the Trophée de France in just a couple days! I’m your coach, I need to be there,” Viktor argued, seeing Makkachin stirring at the end of the bed due to his volume.

“You’re doing that model coach thing again, Viktor,” Yuuri commented as he held his phone in his hand, preparing to inform Yakov of the situation. “Yakov can help me if I need it, he’s been my coach once before.”

Yuuri pulled the phone up to his ear and explained Viktor’s condition, nodding seriously a few times before hanging up.

“I don’t like this, Yuuri.”

Yuuri looked up from his phone with a small, exasperated smile.

“And I don’t like seeing you in pain,” he said, leaning down to push Viktor’s bangs out of his eyes. “Yakov said to rest today, and if it feels better by tomorrow you can come back to coach me. But you’re not allowed to skate until after the Trophée de France.”

Viktor pursed his lips, opening his mouth to protest when Yuuri pressed their foreheads together, thumb rubbing at the apple of his cheek. “Please just rest today? For me, Vitya?”

Viktor closed his mouth, heart hammering as he searched Yuuri’s face before closing his eyes and relenting.

“Okay,” he sighed, pretending that he didn’t enjoy the short peck Yuuri placed on his cheek before walking toward the door.

“I’ll make you an ice pack and some coffee,” Yuuri said, as he tried to hide the flush spreading across his cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, here it is! This is my first yoi fic! I just had a lot of thoughts and ideas once season one was over, so this is essentially my idea of a potential season two. I'm setting it up just like a season, there will be twelve chapters (of varying lengths because I can't control myself with this show) and I'm going to do my best to release them on the same day every week, probably Mondays since Sundays will be difficult for me once I start up school again. 
> 
> The rating may change as I write, but I will try to give a warning if that's going to happen. 
> 
> The fic is going to follow Viktor, Yuuri, and Yurio through the 2016/17 season, but everyone else will have pretty big roles in the progression of the plot as well. Characters and additional tags will also be added as they becoming necessary. I'm not super well-versed in everything figure skating, so if I make a mistake then feel free to correct me, I will be eternally grateful to you! I also don't speak Russian, so if I put something in that's super wrong then, again, correct me and I will shower you in thanks! 
> 
> p.s. I started by using the 'k' in Viktor's name, but if enough people are just thoroughly affronted by it, then I'll totally change it. 
> 
> I hope that you enjoyed this read! If you have a minute and something to say then please comment and tell me how I'm doing! Hopefully the next chapter will be a bit longer!
> 
> моё золотце - 'my gold'
> 
> Have a great day! 
> 
> ~ JD


	2. Anxiety Looms: Grand Prix Series Qualifiers!! Trophée de France Short Program!

Viktor walked through the apartment with a furrowed brow, Makkachin at his heels. He stopped in the kitchen, twisting his body and moving his right leg in every direction. How could ice and resting for half a day have cured almost all of the pain and stiffness he felt?

It had been five hours since Yuuri left him lying in bed with a much-too-large ice pack and a cup of coffee with just a little too much sugar. It wouldn’t be much longer until he returned and Viktor was unsure if he would believe how much better he felt.

He stooped down to run his hands through the fuzzy fur on Makkachin’s head, accepting the enthusiastic kiss he received on his cheek in return. He laughed, wrapping his arms around Makkachin as the dog leapt up to set his front paws on Viktor’s shoulders in his excitement.

“What do you say? How about we make dinner for Yuuri before he gets home,” he said. Makkachin responded with a very enthusiastic ‘wuff,’ which Viktor took as a resounding yes. “Okay,” he said, smile widening as he stood up, noting the twinge in his hip and upper leg as he did. He huffed softly, trying not to think about it as he turned to the fridge. “What shall we make, Makkachin?”

Makkachin’s responding bark was much less helpful that time. Viktor looked around, eyes catching on the window that made up the far wall of his kitchen. It was already getting much colder, though it was never all that hot to begin with. A moment later he snapped his fingers and smiled down to Makkachin with a thumbs up. “I’ve got it!”

__

Yuuri entered their apartment with a shudder, as if he were physically shaking the cold from his body. He hung his coat up beside Viktor’s, still unsure why a chair was also functioning as a coat rack with a tall wooden pole sticking up from its back, but decided not to voice his question. Maybe it was a trend.

He slipped his shoes off before walking further inside, intending to drop his bag off in the bedroom as he checked on Viktor. So, understandably, he jumped and yelped when said Russian man approached him with a wide smile on his face.

“V-Viktor! What are you doing? You’re supposed to be resting! What about your leg?” he asked, his equipment bag thudding against the hardwood flooring as he ran his hand up Viktor’s hip, looking just this side of panicked. Viktor sighed with a small, fond smile.

“Yuuri,” he said, hands holding Yuuri’s shoulders and squeezing, drawing his attention to his face. “It’s fine. I think I might have just slept strangely, I hardly feel anything at all now.”

Yuuri narrowed his eyes, kicking his hip out and laying his hand on it.

“That’s not going to work on me, Viktor,” he said firmly.

“Wh—no! I’m serious, here,” Viktor said, grabbing Yuuri’s hand and bringing it to rest on his hip again. He made him press down, pushing at his skin all the way down his leg. “See? I told you. No pain.”

“ _None?_ ” Yuuri asked skeptically. Viktor looked away for a moment with a small shrug.

“ _Almost_ none. But it’s hardly there, Yuuri!”

“I still think you should rest for another day or two,” Yuuri said, frowning and still looking at Viktor’s leg. Viktor pouted his lips, knowing that Yuuri was probably right and he should try not to aggravate anything, but he couldn’t sit around the apartment without Yuuri for any longer. He was sure he wouldn’t be able to take it.

“But I can at least coach you tomorrow, right?”

“Only if it doesn’t get any worse,” Yuuri said, looking conflicted as he still ran his thumb along Viktor’s hip. His right hand settled on his other hip for a moment before they both slid up his sides and slipped around his back. Yuuri buried his face in Viktor’s chest and breathed out a slow, shaky breath as he held him too tightly.

“Моя любовь, what is it?” Viktor asked, arms looping around Yuuri’s shoulders and fingers running through the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I...was really worried. I thought…” he trailed off, pressing his face harder against Viktor’s chest as he shook his head. His breath hitched and it was all Viktor could do to pull him back and press insistent kisses over his cheeks and forehead.

“Yuuri,” he murmured, bumping their foreheads together and cupping Yuuri’s jaw, looking into his watery brown eyes. “It’s okay, don’t cry. I’m fine! You know how bad I am with people crying in front of me.”

“Stupid Viktor,” Yuuri mumbled as he pushed forward to press his face to Viktor’s neck, a wet laugh escaping his lips as he shook against him. Viktor was stunned, hands hanging in the air and eyes wide. Had Yuuri just called him stupid? “You always make the funniest faces when I cry,” Yuuri told him, lips brushing against Viktor’s warm skin as he spoke.

“Yuuri, you’re mean,” Viktor grumbled, wrapping his arms around Yuuri’s waist before lifting him up until only his toes touched the floor.

“Viktor, your leg!” Yuuri said, pulling back slightly and trying to wriggle out of Viktor’s strong grasp. It was no use as he was almost immediately deposited on the couch in the middle of the room. His head landed on the absurd pile of pillows against the arm and he could just stare ahead as Viktor knelt over him. He used his left leg, Yuuri noticed, as his right tangled with Yuuri’s own legs on the other end of the couch.

“I don’t like seeing the person I love cry, especially not because of me,” he said, bracing his hands on either side of Yuuri’s head. Yuuri smiled, tilting his head as he reached up to run his hand through Viktor’s hair. Viktor allowed his hand to pull him down for a soft kiss. “Mm, why are you only this affectionate when you think I’m injured?” he asked as he pulled away slightly, blue eyes boring into Yuuri’s lightly flushed face.

Yuuri perked up at that, mouth dropping open and eyebrows knitting together.

“I’m affectionate!” he protested. He sat up so that his back was pressing against the arm of the couch. Viktor sat up as well, keeping his eyes locked with Yuuri’s.

“Yuuri,” he said, tone flat as he just stared, arms still braced on the couch arm around Yuuri’s waist. Yuuri’s face visibly reddened as he nodded even though he could no longer meet Viktor’s eyes.

“I am!” he insisted, hands reaching up to hold Viktor’s arms. “But...if you’re not happy with—”

“Yuuri! No, no, I’m only teasing you, солнышко!” Viktor said quickly, nuzzling Yuuri’s face to cut him off. Yuuri laughed as Viktor’s nose tickled his cheek, squirming as he reached down to tickle his ribs as well.

Viktor’s lips met his again, sweet and soft as his palms settled against Yuuri’s waist beneath his shirt. Yuuri kissed him back, his heart stuttering in his chest and his fingers tangling in Viktor’s soft hair. “I made dinner by the way,” Viktor said once they parted. His cheeks were lightly flushed. “Makkachin helped.”

“Mm that must be what smells so good. What is it?”

“Rassolnik,” Viktor replied, leaning down to kiss Yuuri’s nose, unable to resist. “It’s like a beef soup, you’ll like it.”

“I like everything you cook,” Yuuri said earnestly, though Viktor knew he was lying. He wasn’t the best cook, he knew that, but he was fairly competent when it came to Russian dishes. He smiled, breathing out a fond sigh as he leaned down to kiss Yuuri’s lips once more.

A knock at the door startled them both, but mostly Yuuri. He jumped, slamming their foreheads together by accident and practically throwing Viktor off of him as he stood up to answer the door. “Sorry! Oh my god, sorry, Viktor!” he said as he turned back around and lifted Viktor’s bangs to inspect the small red mark.

“It’s fine, it’s fine, солнышко,” Viktor laughed. “Answer the door,” he said, pecking Yuuri’s lips before turning him toward the door again. Yuuri’s cheeks were still burning as he opened the door slowly. When his eyes landed on Yuri on the other side of the entrance the flush spread up to his ears.

“Y-Yurio! Wh-what are you doing here?” he asked as he took a step back and Yuri barged inside. He fumbled with his rumpled clothes as Yuri sized him up. He finally made an annoyed grunt, eyes darting between Yuuri and Viktor.

“Were you two making out?”

“No!” Yuuri shouted, throwing his hands out to shake them, as if warding off even the thought of making out with Viktor. Viktor huffed.

“So what if we were?” he asked from the couch. “This _is_ our home.”

“Ugh, nevermind,” Yuri said, turning to leave.

“I made Rassolnik,” Viktor continued softly, making Yuri’s steps falter. “You can stay for dinner if you want.”

Yuri looked over his shoulder, eyes flicking between Viktor and Yuuri, the tense set of his shoulders not lost on either of them. He clenched his fists before nodding, throwing his jacket at the coat rack and stomping further into the apartment. Yuuri closed the door behind him with an exasperated smile.

“Don’t do anything weird while I’m here,” he said, crossing his arms as he sat on the couch beside Viktor. He glared at the mess the older man’s bangs were in and rolled his eyes. “You were totally making out,” he grumbled.

“We weren’t expecting guests,” Viktor said with a smirk.

“We _weren’t!_ ” Yuuri insisted at the same time as he fixed Yuri’s coat on the hook and moved his equipment bag from the center of the living room where he dropped it earlier.

“Besides, can you blame me?” Viktor asked as if Yuuri hadn’t spoken at all, adding a wink as he braced his hand on the couch arm to stand. Yuri was ready with a particularly sharp response but found that he couldn’t speak, his heart clenching in his chest as Viktor hissed in pain, only standing halfway before sitting down again.

“Viktor! I told you, you should have been more careful!” Yuuri said, standing at Viktor’s side and running a nervous hand through his hair as he laughed breathlessly.

“Sorry, Yuuri,” he said. Makkachin ambled out from the bedroom then, perking up when he saw Yuuri and Yuri in the room with Viktor. He trotted over, laying his head in Viktor’s lap when no one immediately acknowledged him.

Viktor’s hand ran through Makkachin’s fur, smiling weakly down at him as Yuuri ran toward the kitchen to make a new ice pack.

“What’s wrong with you?” Yuri asked, sounding much harsher than he probably intended.

“Not sure. Probably just overworking, though. I’ve been doing a lot more practice than I’m used to, so…” he trailed off with a shrug and a poor excuse for a smile. Yuri could tell there was a lot he was hiding, a lot he was trying to keep even from Yuuri, but he kept quiet. For the moment, at least.

Yuuri rushed back a moment later holding a huge ice pack in his hands, trying to apply it to Viktor’s right leg immediately. Viktor reached out to stop his hands, squeezing them softly as he did. “Yuuri, let’s eat first, okay? I’ll sit and rest afterward, but you and Yurio both need to eat.”

“B-but—!”

“Yuuri,” Viktor chimed, that sing-songy tone he always used to divert Yuuri’s attention from something bothering him. “I promise to sit and ice and not move for the rest of the night _after_ we have dinner. Deal?”

Yuuri sighed, shoulders drooping as he bit his lip and nodded.

“Okay. Are you sure you can stand?”

Viktor nodded, shifting his leg to make sure before he reached his arms out for Yuuri to take.

“It’s not as bad as this morning, I think I was just standing too quickly,” he said as Yuuri helped pull him up. Once he was vertical he nodded, smiling and pecking Yuuri’s cheek. “See? Fine!” he said as he walked to the kitchen to check on the food.

Once he was standing over the pot he allowed some of his fear to come out, chest heaving  slightly as he ran a shaking hand through his hair, hearing Yuuri and Yuri chatting over the bar top. What was happening to him?

Makkachin whined at his feet and he sighed, kneeling down and patting his head placatingly, though it only served to make the dog look even antsier.

“Все будет хорошо,” he said, unsure if he really meant it for Makkachin or himself. He took a deep breath before nodding and standing again, grabbing three bowls from the cabinet. “Okay!” he called. “It’s ready, let’s eat!”

__

“So, why are you hiding out here?” Viktor asked as Yuri pressed his back against the couch, sitting on the floor with Makkachin in his lap. The sound of the sink running filled the silence between them, Yuuri washing dishes and oblivious to their conversation. Yuri stiffened, turning to glare at Viktor, eyes darting down to where he was adjusting the ice pack adorning his thigh and hip.

“What do you mean, old man?” he snapped, turning around again and petting Makkachin to distract himself.

“I mean that you don’t really visit us,” Viktor answered, voice free of judgement. “It’s because of your jumps, isn’t it?”

“Shut up, stop getting into my head!”

“It’s okay, you know,” Viktor told him. He was more serious than Yuri was used to and it made him frown. “Yuuri and I won’t judge you for feeling uncertain about your skating. We’ve both been where you are, you don’t have to be alone in this.”

Yuri didn’t respond, pulling his knees up to his chest and laying his chin on top of them. Makkachin curled up against him, sensing his mounting distress.

They sat in silence, listening to Yuui setting dishes on the drying rack and cleaning up the kitchen, despite Viktor’s assurance that he could do it.

 _“You cooked, I’ll clean, it’s fine, Viktor. Go sit down,”_ he had insisted.

Viktor could feel the dull ache in his body fading as the ice chilled his skin through his clothing and the hand towel wrapped around it. He looked up from fiddling with the pack when Yuri took a deep breath.

“Jumps are what I’m good at,” he said. “What am I if I can’t even land my jumps anymore?”

“Yurio, you’re an incredible skater. You beat my short program world record in your senior debut.”

“With a program that _you_ choreographed.”

“But _I_ didn’t skate it. You made the program yours, and it was more than your jumps that broke my record, no?” Viktor said, a small proud smile on his lips as he looked down at Yuri, though his face was covered by his hair. He was growing it out, which only made Viktor smile wider. “Once you’re finished growing, you can relearn all your jumps. It’s just a matter of adjusting to your new center of gravity. It’s not like you’ve completely forgotten how to land jumps, you just haven’t adjusted yet.”

Yuri took a breath to respond when Yuuri cut in from the kitchen.

“Yurio, are you sure you had enough to eat? You’ve been getting taller lately, and we still have some soup left over if you’re still hungry.”

“I said I’m fine, pork cutlet bowl!” he shouted, jolting back into his abrasive facade. Yuuri laughed from the kitchen, storing the leftover Rassolnik in the fridge before walking around the bar and looking over Viktor and Yuri by the couch.

“I saved it in case you change your mind,” he said in response, a friendly smile on his lips. Yuri grumbled as he sat back against the couch, crossing his arms and ignoring Yuuri.

Viktor looked up as Yuuri’s hand ran over the back of his head. “How does it feel?”

“Better,” he said, running deft fingers along Yuuri’s jaw and smiling when he flushed, eyes glancing to Yuri before returning to Viktor’s. “You worry too much,” he said. Yuuri scoffed.

“You know me well enough to know that’ll never really stop.”  

Viktor hummed, pulling Yuuri in for a quick kiss and smirking when Yuri groaned. Almost immediately his cellphone was out and his fingers tapped against the screen with fervor. Yuuri was still leaning over the back of the couch, face close to Viktor’s as they both stared at him. Viktor assumed he was probably texting Otabek, as they had become close friends in the previous few months.

**20:35 New Text to: Otabek**

_ <I told you this was a terrible idea they never take their hands off each other> _

“We didn’t touch each other once through dinner, I think that should count for something,” he said, leaning forward enough to see Yuri’s phone as he typed. Yuri glared at him over his shoulder before turning around as his phone dinged.

**20:37 New Text from: Otabek**

_ <Did you tell them what you wanted to talk about?> _

“What’s going on? Who’re you texting, Yurio?” Yuuri asked, too far back to see and glancing between Viktor and Yuri.

“He’s talking to Otabek,” Viktor said. “About how we never stop touching each other.”

Yuuri’s only response was a whine as he covered his face with his hands. Viktor pulled him down so he had his warm face pressed to his chest. The position was awkward with Yuuri leaning over the back of the couch, but he didn’t say anything as Viktor ran his fingers through his hair to soothe him. Yuri huffed, taking a picture of his annoyed face with Viktor and Yuuri behind him.

**20:39 New Text to: Otabek**

_ <I told them not to do anything weird while I was here> _

**20:41 New Text to: Otabek**

_ <just look! it’s always like this! >:( > _

_[image]_

**20:41 New Text from: Otabek**

_ <Maybe if you tell them why you visited, they will stop.> _

**20:42 New Text from: Otabek**

_ <Oh. Cute. They look very in love.> _

**20:43 New Text to: Otabek**

_ <YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE ON MY SIDE!!!> _

Viktor laughed easily as he continued to look over Yuri’s shoulder.

“See? Even your friend thinks it’s fine.”

“Shut up, Viktor! Otabek doesn’t know what he’s talking about!”

Viktor just laughed again, allowing Yuuri to pull away when he shifted and smiling up at him as his face still bore a slight flush and he looked away.

“Say, Yurio, why don’t you stay the night? It’s getting pretty late and Yakov and Lilia live pretty far away, no? You can come with us to practice in the morning,” Viktor said after Yuuri walked around the couch to sit beside him, laying his legs across his lap and yawning as he leaned back.

Yuri looked up to stare at him dubiously. Despite his brash personality, Viktor could see the tense set of his shoulders and the way he had ignored several calls, likely from Yakov, throughout the night. Yuri frowned, looking away for a moment before nodding without meeting Viktor’s eyes.

“Sure, whatever.”

“Great!” Viktor chimed. “Why don’t you just let them know where you are so they don’t worry?”

Yuri tensed again, but Viktor just smiled and nodded to him. He pouted but stood anyway, much to Makkachin’s annoyance, and trudged to the hallway near the bedroom, holding the phone to his ear. His hand was shaking and Viktor couldn’t stop his heart from aching at the sight.

“Yakov, yeah, it’s me,” he said. Yuuri looked from the hallway to Viktor, his eyebrows pinching together. Viktor just smiled and shook his head. Yuuri didn’t need to worry about him and Yuri both when he had a competition coming up, his anxiety would be enough to deal with on its own. “No, I’m fine,” Yuri said, drawing Viktor’s attention again. “I’m...with Viktor and…” he trailed off again, listening to the tinny voice coming through his phone. Viktor could faintly hear it from his position, but only the tone. Yakov sounded worried. “Yeah, at their apartment. No, they said I could stay.”

Yuuri was rubbing Viktor’s leg absently as he dozed slightly on the couch, head still tilted toward the hallway, listening like Viktor was doing. Viktor couldn’t keep the fond smile off his face, watching as Yuuri’s glasses slipped down his nose and he jolted after falling forward for a second. His hair was a mess, though it wasn’t an uncommon look for him.

“Yuuri, why don’t you go to bed, моя любовь?”

Yuuri shook his head, hair falling into his eyes as he looked over to meet Viktor’s eyes.

“If I go to bed now, you’ll probably do something strenuous and hurt your leg even more. I’ll wait for you, it’s fine.”

“I’ll go to bed once I get Yurio settled in, it wouldn’t take very long. You look exhausted.”

Yuuri shook his head, stretching his arms up above his head before settling them on Viktor’s legs again.

“It’s fine, Viktor. I want you to heal as fast as possible. I know you’re antsy to get back on the ice.”

Viktor held back a response as Yuri returned to the living room, still pouting but shoulders much more relaxed. “Oh, we only have the one room,” Yuuri said, as if only just realizing it. “Um, one of us could sleep on the futon my mom sent us?” he asked Viktor who pressed his finger to his lips in thought.

“I can sleep on the couch, and Yurio can take the bed?”

“No!” Yuri snapped, glaring at Viktor as if his statement had been a personal attack. “No, you two sleep in your bed, I’ll sleep on the couch, it’s fine. Viktor’s too old to sleep on the floor or a couch anyway.” His eyes flickered between Viktor’s face and the ice pack on his leg as he spoke. Viktor tried not to smile too much.

“I slept on a futon for a few nights when I first got to Hasetsu, you know,” he said, only succeeding in poking the fire by that point. Yuri fumed.

“That was over a year ago, just sleep in your stupid bed together,” he said. “Go already, you both look like you’re about to die or something.”

Viktor held back a delighted laugh as much as he could as he lifted the ice pack and slowly pushed himself to his feet. He twirled around in front of Yuuri with his arms held out.

“See? Good as new, nothing to worry about!” he said in response to Yuuri’s outstretched hands and worried expression, walking to the kitchen to slip the pack into the freezer for potential later use while Yuuri stood from the couch and walked to the hall closet. He pulled down one too many blankets and an overstuffed pillow, handing them to Yuri with a smile.

“If the couch gets too uncomfortable, then the futon is at the top of the closet. If you get cold, there’s more blankets in there, and if you need anything, you can get me or Viktor, okay?”

“I’m not a little kid, I’ll be fine.”

“I know, but just in case, okay?”

“Fine,” Yuri responded, with a huff. Yuuri smiled as he wished him a good rest and walked toward the bathroom. Viktor squeezed Yuri’s shoulder as he followed after Yuuri. Yuri nodded slightly and turned to the couch to set up the blankets.

Viktor slipped his arms around Yuuri’s waist as he finished brushing his teeth. Yuuri smiled, kissing his cheek and nuzzling into the hug for another sweet moment. When he pulled away Viktor whined a soft complaint.

Yuuri rolled his eyes as he left the bathroom. Viktor could hear him enter and then leave the bedroom, murmuring to Yuri about a set of pajamas and a spare, unused toothbrush for him in the bathroom. When he emerged, Yuri was hugging a set of pajamas Yuuri almost never wore to his chest and waiting outside the bathroom.

“Sleep well, Yurio,” he said. “Все будет хорошо.”

“Заткнись,” he said mildly, pushing past Viktor and closing the door.

As Viktor closed the bedroom door behind himself, his eyes fell on Yuuri, who was slipping a comfortable shirt over his head. He turned his head at the sound of the door clicking shut and looked Viktor up and down for a moment.

“Will you be okay to change?”

“Why? Do you want to undress me that badly, Yuuri?”

“N- _no_! W-well...but that’s not what I meant!”

Viktor stepped forward to take Yuuri’s waist, pulling them closer so he could cut off any further rambling with a soft kiss to Yuuri’s lips.

“I know. I’ll be fine, I really don’t feel any pain right now.”

Yuuri stared at him, obviously not believing him in the slightest, but seemed to think better of protesting again and just nodded.

“Wear something decent to bed, Yurio is in the other room,” Yuuri said instead, poking Viktor’s chest softly.

Viktor laughed as he nodded, releasing Yuuri’s waist somewhat reluctantly. He turned and opened his drawers, pulling out a shirt and sweats to sleep in. He could feel Yuuri’s watchful eye on his back as he changed and dropped his dirty clothing into their laundry basket. He did wish Yuuri’s intent gaze was for something more exciting, but he still appreciated the sentiment.

__

Viktor awoke well into the night with his head resting on Yuuri’s chest. He moved his leg under the covers, but felt no pain. He tried to listen for what might have awoken him and heard a soft voice coming from the living room. He froze, listening intently. What was Yuri still doing up?

“I don’t want to disappoint everyone.” Yuri said. Viktor’s chest ached. “No, I know that, but, Otabek—” he cut himself off, silence dragging on for several long moments. “But what if I can’t land jumps ever again?”

Viktor almost wanted to jump out of bed and do something to reassure him, but he knew that it would be counterproductive. Yuri wasn’t helped by that kind of support. He just listened, hand subconsciously gripping at Yuuri’s shirt as he slept soundly, his mouth twitching slightly. “Well, yeah, but they’re always like that,” Yuri said. Was he talking about Yakov and Lilia? “No matter what they’re always embarrassingly supportive. They always cheer for me, so it’s not very helpful when I do badly.” Oh, he meant Viktor and Yuuri.

Viktor shifted to stare up at the ceiling, trying to understand what Yuri’s situation was. Obviously, he was growing and that was off-setting the careful internal balance he had built up for jumps and spins. But he was worried for the long-term. He was worried that this would destroy his entire skating career before it even had time to really get going. “I didn’t say I didn’t want them...to cheer for me,” Yuri mumbled, as if the statement was being forcefully yanked out of his lungs.  “Well, I—” he cut off again, sounding frustrated and maybe a little embarrassed.

Viktor breathed out a soft laugh through his nose as he let his eyes slip closed again, still listening as Yuuri’s chest rose and fell rhythmically. “I just want them to have a _reason_ to be proud of me.”

Viktor felt himself falling back into the welcoming darkness of sleep, but knew that Otabek was the best person to reassure Yuri’s fears. He knew he was doing everything he could.

__

He felt like his eyes had only been closed for a moment when a frantic shaking on his shoulder brought him back to consciousness with a jolt. He looked over to see Yuuri behind him looking close to pulling his own hair out and sitting up in the bed.

“Viktor,” he whispered urgently and Viktor glanced at the clock on the nightstand before groaning softly and rubbing his hands over his face. During the night he had shifted onto his side, which seemed to be the primary issue at hand.

“Yuuri, моё золотце, it’s four in the morning,” he said, as gently as he possibly could with his gruff, sleep-hoarse voice.

“You’re sleeping on your hip, you could make it worse or-or—!”

Viktor shifted with a sigh, flipping onto his other side and coaxing Yuuri into laying back down and facing him. “I’m going to be fine. You have a competition coming up, and you need to rest. So take a breath with me,” he said, watching Yuuri take a deep breath when instructed, some of the tension seeping out of his back. “There, see?” he asked, pulling Yuuri’s hand onto his hip beneath his shirt and smiling when Yuuri rubbed the skin gently.

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri whispered once he was fully relaxed again, legs tangling with Viktor’s.

“It’s okay, I’m glad you care so much about my health. But maybe not so early in the morning, okay?”

Yuuri nodded seriously. Viktor kissed his nose.

__

“Viktor, I look awful in this,” Yuuri complained as they waited to board their flight, sitting beside one another in the terminal. Viktor leaned over and looked at Yuuri’s phone, smirking at the screenshot from his own Instagram that morning.

**09:33 New Text from: Phichit-kun**

_ <Did you even know he posted this??? _

_[image]_

**_♥_** ** _+guanghongji+_** _,_ **_christophe-gc_** _and_ ** _9,120 others_**

 **_v-nikiforov_ ** _Leaving for Paris today with Yuuri! Can’t wait! #tropheedefrance #grandprix_

_View all 200 comments_

_3 hours ago > _

“No you don’t, you look just fine.”

“You’re biased,” Yuuri said, still frowning at the picture of himself that morning fresh out of bed and still half-asleep with a cup of coffee in his hands. Viktor sighed, pulling out his own phone and opening his Instagram. He pulled up the comments for the photo and set the phone into Yuuri’s hand carefully, watching the blush spread across his cheeks as he scrolled. “Th-they know we’re engaged, right?”

Viktor just laughed, leaning in to kiss Yuuri’s cheek and eliciting a groan from Yuri beside them.

“You two didn’t even last an hour,” he said. Viktor turned to look at him, holding Yuuri’s cheeks as if to present him as evidence in his favor.

“But, Yurio! Can you _blame_ me?”

“Yes. I already do.”

Viktor ignored him in favor of leaning on Yuuri, watching him scroll through news articles on his phone. His leg still felt strange, but with the way Yuuri had been reacting, he tried his best to hide it as much as possible. Yuuri didn’t need the added stress on him.

He could see Yuri glaring at him out of the corner of his eye as he shifted his leg, subtly trying to find a more comfortable position. He ignored Yuri’s gaze, intently reading the puff-piece Yuuri opened about Phichit’s performance in the Rostelecom Cup. Everything would be fine.

__

Yuuri skated up to the boards after warm-up, taking a quick drink from the water bottle beside Viktor’s hand.

“Yuuri,” Viktor said. Yuuri looked up, a queasy smile on his lips as he set the bottle down, letting Viktor take his hand to press his lips to his knuckles and drag them across his ring. “Make them love you as much as I do.”

“R-right.” Yuuri nodded, holding Viktor’s hand just a touch too tightly and making him breathe out a soft laugh.

“You’re stunning, моё золотце. I won’t take my eyes off you.”

“Right,” Yuuri said again, voice steady. He tugged Viktor into a hug over the boards and sighed into his shoulder.

“Please welcome our first skater to the ice, Yuuri Katsuki of Japan,” the commentator said as Yuuri skated around the rink a few times, shaking his hands and pressing his ring to his cheek, trying to cool his already heating skin.

“This is Katsuki’s first Grand Prix Qualifier for this season. He took silver in last year’s final, and it’s clear he’s going for the gold this year. Viktor Nikiforov is here as his coach today after taking gold at Skate Canada in October. Katsuki and Nikiforov will be competing against one another at the NHK Trophy in just a couple weeks.”

Yuuri took his starting position at center ice and took a deep breath. Viktor could feel his heart slamming in his chest, hands clasped together.

“His theme this season is ‘Fear and Trust.’ He said that his short program represents the anxiety he has struggled with for most of his life, and how he works to understand it and overcome it with the help of his family and friends. His program was choreographed by Viktor Nikiforov.”

As the music started, Yuuri could feel his heart stuttering in his chest as he spun and glided across the ice slowly.

“He has planned almost all of his jumps for the second half of the program. His first and only jump in the first half with be a quad.”

_“Yuuri, you’re distracted,” Viktor had called the day Yakov allowed him to return to the rink as Yuuri’s coach._

_“I’m not, I’m fine,” Yuuri insisted, looking away and fiddling with his gloves. Viktor huffed, pouting and crossing his arms over his chest._

_“You always miss your jumps when you’re not focusing. And your step sequence just now was so lifeless, it’s like you weren’t even there!”_

_“I’m sorry,” Yuuri said, which only seemed to make Viktor look more upset._

_“Don’t apologize, just tell me what’s_ wrong _, Yuuri. You’ve been out of it since this morning. Were you not able to fall asleep again?”_

_Yuuri shook his head, still fumbling with his gloves._

_“No, I was, it’s not that. I just…” when he trailed off, he glanced down Viktor’s body before looking away again and Viktor sighed, rubbing his temples for a moment._

_“This is still about my leg.”_

_“I-I—”_

_“No, Yuuri, come here.”_

_Yuuri skated forward slowly, heart hammering in his ears as his toe picks tapped gently against the boards. Viktor reached out and grabbed the sides of his face, pulling him in and bumping their foreheads together. “Look at me, right now. I’m right in front of you. I’m here, I’m fine. Okay?” he asked._

_Yuuri glanced away and shrugged. Viktor’s fingers twitched against his skin and he flinched, guiltily meeting his gaze again. “I love how much you care about me, I do, but I don’t want it to affect your skating.”_

_“I d-don’t mean for it to, but sometimes—”_

_“I know, солнышко, it’s not your fault,” Viktor said, smiling and making Yuuri’s heart leap as his chest loosened up a little bit. “But will you try something for me?”_

_Yuuri nodded. “Perfect. Try putting these feelings into your skating, this is what your program is about, right? So try to use them and leave as much as you can on the ice. I know it’s hard and it won’t just go away, but could you try?”_

_Yuuri nodded again, soaking up Viktor’s warmth for another moment before pulling away and skating further out on the ice again._

“Beautiful quad toeloop right off the bat.”

Yuuri’s body twisted and turned with the music, focusing on the program. Channeling his feelings like Viktor told him to. His heart was already pounding, fingers tingling, his ring heavy on his hand. “And now we move into the step sequence.”

_“Pork cutlet bowl, wait up!” Yuri shouted as Yuuri was leaving the hotel for a short run to clear his head the morning after they arrived in Paris._

_“Oh, Yurio,” he greeted, pausing and pulling his headphones out of his ears. He turned on his heel to face him. “What’s up?”_

_“I wanted...to talk to you about something,” he grumbled, stuffing his hands into his sweatshirt pockets._

_“Um, yeah! Sure! What...is it?”_

_“Not here. Let’s go eat.”_

_Yuuri had planned to eat with Viktor once he returned from his run, but the look on Yuri’s face had him following without a word._

_They found a small shop that was only a little crowded and sat with warm drinks and something to eat in front of them. Yuri was fidgeting and looking like even thinking about speaking to Yuuri was slowly killing him. Yuuri smiled, sipping his coffee and humming at the flavor._

_“Obviously,” Yuri began. Yuuri looked up, rapt attention on him with a warm smile. “I haven’t...been landing my jumps as consistently lately.”_

_“Well you’ve been getting much taller, it’s understandable that it may be throwing off your balance.”_

_“That’s what Yakov always says but—” Yuri’s fist was clenched beside the handle to his mug and Yuuri frowned, setting his drink down and leaning forward on the table, trying to show that he was still listening. “When will it stop?” he finally asked._

_“When...your growing?”_

_“No! When...when will I stop missing my jumps?”_

_“Well it’s different for every skater, Yurio.”_

_“Then when did it stop for you? How long did it last?” he asked so earnestly it nearly had Yuuri falling out of his seat._

_“I...well I was never all the consistent about landing my jumps in competition,” he mumbled._

_“But in practice.”_

_“Why are you asking me, of all people? Wouldn’t Viktor be able to answer better? Or Georgi? Or Mila?”_

_“You beat me in the Final,” Yuri answered, making Yuuri glance up and tilt his head. “I only won the gold because of my short program and even then it was by .12 points. You beat me, your free program was…” he trailed off, looking both angry and embarrassed. It was endearing. “Anyway, you...have my respect. But it’s not like I won’t beat you next time, got it?”_

_Yuuri laughed, nodding easily and sipping at his coffee again._

_“For me it took a few months to get back to landing jumps consistently in practice again. I wasn’t qualifying for the Final at the time either, though.”_

_Yuri slumped back in his chair, somewhat dejected._

_“You have to kick Viktor’s ass this season in my place, then.”_

“Powerful step sequence. And now he’s planned a triple flip-triple toeloop combination.”

Yuuri could feel Viktor’s eyes on him as he skated. His chest was warm and he set up for the combination.

“Triple flip, triple toeloop. Excellent.”

He could barely focus on the rink or the ice, his body moving practically on instinct, the music flooding into his system.

“Quadruple salchow, single loop, triple toeloop. Nice fight. He over-rotated on that toeloop but didn’t let it disrupt his flow. He has…”

Everything around him faded away as he moved, the chill of the air forgotten. The next thing he knew, he was standing in his final pose, hand reaching up. The crowd was booming and he smiled, waving and looking over his shoulder to see Viktor’s face.

The smile that greeted him sent his heart into a frenzy as he made his way to the rink gate, arms outstretched.

Viktor met him, hugging him tightly as he stepped off the ice.

“That was incredible. How do you feel?” he asked, stepping back and handing Yuuri his skate guards and warm-up jacket. Yuuri nodded his response, allowing Viktor to herd him to the kiss and cry.

“I...don’t remember most of it, to be honest.”

Viktor tilted his head at that. Yuuri shrugged. “I don’t know, I just sort of...stopped thinking.”

“The score for Yuuri Katsuki, please,” a voice said over the speakers. Yuuri tensed beside Viktor, looking up and squinting at the scoreboard. Viktor grinned, leaning closer to wrap an arm around Yuuri’s shoulders. “The short program score for Yuuri Katsuki is 100.88, he is currently in first place.”

“Incredible score for Yuuri Katsuki. Anyone who saw his progress last season will know that he’s only going to get better from here,” the commentator said. Viktor couldn’t help himself as he grabbed Yuuri in a tight hug, feeling Yuuri shaking with laughter beside him.

“It’s not even a personal best,” Yuuri reminded him. Viktor ignored him, nuzzling his cheek just to make him laugh again.

“Hey, you two, get out of the kiss and cry already,” Yuri said, leaning down to sneer at them with Yakov and Lilia behind him.

“Oh, Yurio! Davai!” Viktor said, turning to fully face Yuri and smiling brightly. Yuri scoffed, leaning away and crossing his arms over his chest. Viktor stood up with Yuuri beside him. Yuuri glanced over, frowning at the tense set of Yuri’s shoulders and the way his knuckles had blanched at how tight his fists were.

With his mind made up and mentally prepared to possibly be punched, he strode forward and grabbed Yuri in a tight hug.

“Davai, Yurio. Just do your best,” he said. Yuri tensed against him even more, struggling and shouting.

“Get the hell off me!”

Yuuri squeezed him one last time before stepping back and retreating to Viktor’s side. Yuri was scowling, but his shoulders had relaxed and Yuuri smiled. Viktor led him to the eager reporters waiting for him, even though both of them wanted to support their friend. Though he would deny wanting their support anyway.

__

“Phichit-kun!” Yuuri called after Phichit’s scores had been announced, catching him on his way out of the kiss and cry.

“Oh, Yuuri! There you are! Your performance was great!” Phichit said, tugging Yuuri into a hug and pulling his phone out. He proceeded to squish their faces together for a selfie.

“Ah, I was going to say the same thing. When did you add the quad salchow to your roster?” Yuuri asked, smiling as Phichit adjusted the camera and took a few pictures. Once Phichit pulled away, satisfied, he started to fiddle with his phone and spoke at the same time.

“At the start of the season. I’ve gotta start upping the ante if I want to beat you and your world record, right?” he answered, laughing brightly and nudging Yuuri’s ribs with his elbow. Yuuri laughed as well, smiling down at the post Phichit had constructed and posted to his Instagram.

[image]

 **♥** **+guanghongji+** and **12 others**

 **phichit+chu** Finally found him! :) #yuurikatsuki #phichit #paris

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2 minutes ago

Yuuri allowed himself to be pulled along with Phichit as he answered the standard interview questions, smiling politely beside him. He felt a weight settle into his stomach as the final scores for the short program were shown on the television screens around the back area.

Seung-gil was in first, topping Yuuri’s score by just a few points. Yuuri was in second, with Phichit close behind him, having scored a personal best of 98.45. Yuri was in fourth, having missed almost all of his jumps but skating an amazing step sequence. Two younger skaters that Yuuri had not recognized were in the fifth and sixth spots.

“Yuuri, there you are!” Viktor’s voice cut off his train of thought, bounding toward him and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “Hi, Phichit!” he greeted as Phichit smiled and waved. Yuuri could still feel his heart beating painfully in his chest, breath coming a touch too quickly. Phichit must have noticed too as he wrapped his arm around Yuuri’s other shoulder and squeezed softly.

“Hey, Yuuri? Let’s head back to the hotel to change and then all go for dinner,” he said, trying to divert Yuuri’s attention. Yuuri blinked, glancing to Phichit’s bright, smiling face. He could see the familiar concern beneath it and gave in, nodding twice. “Great! I’ll meet you in the hotel lobby in two hours!” Phichit told him before bounding off, likely to find Celestino.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright to go out, Yuuri? You look a little pale,” Viktor said, fingers tracing patterns into his upper arm. Yuuri just nodded, forcing his thoughts into the present enough to grin.

“Yes. It’s been too long since I’ve gotten to talk to Phichit outside of texting. It’ll be fun.” It was clear that Viktor was skeptical, but he smiled and nodded anyway.

“Okay, let’s go to the hotel now. We should invite Yurio, too.”

Viktor pulled him along, answering questions for him as he still managed to get lost in his own thoughts. His stomach churned. This was really his only chance to score high, right? Viktor would beat him at the NHK Trophy, there was no question about that. So this was his one chance to make sure he made it to the final. He couldn’t screw it up. He couldn’t just skate by like last season, that just wouldn’t cut it this time.

 _Everything will be fine_ , he thought, trying his best to believe it. _Everything will be fine._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay! as promised a longer, plottier chapter! A little early because I can't control myself;; but also because I'm excited since i got a job for last semester;; 
> 
> I'm also not much of a chapter summary person;;;
> 
> But we're here! This is the second to last GPF qualifier for this season. I want to delve into a few other competitions, which is why it's so late in the season so early on. I'm also planning on writing more detailed skating scenes for the free skate, so fear not, there will be much more Phichit in the future! I'm still not an expert in figure skating, so if I make a mistake or write a jump combination that totally doesn't happen, then please let me know! I'm also still not a Russian speaker, so if I make a mistake there, feel free to correct me! I will shower you with love and thanks!! 
> 
> I wanted to thank everyone who commented and encouraged me and just generally enjoyed the first chapter! It made my heart so warm like wow you're all so sweet. wow. T^T so if you have something to say about this chapter, like theories or headcanons or if something was off or anything really and a free minute please comment! 
> 
> Моя любовь - my love  
> солнышко - sunshine/my sunshine  
> Все будет хорошо - everything will be fine  
> Заткнись - shut up  
> моё золотце - my gold
> 
> Okay, that's all I think for this chapter. I hope you all enjoy it as much (or more) as the last one! Have a great day, and be safe!! 
> 
> ~JD
> 
> (p.s. sorry to anyone who clicked on the chapter early, I was having issues due to emojis in the text and had to figure everything out;;; my apologies!! It's all good now, though!)


	3. Grand Prix Series Qualifiers Heat up!! Trophée de France Free Skate!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! This chapter contains a scene depicting an anxiety attack and hyperventilation! If you'd like to avoid this for any reason at all but still want to read the chapter, the scene starts around 'once the food was ordered' and ends around 'I'm sorry, Phichit' 
> 
> Please take care of yourselves <3

“Yuuri,” Viktor said for the third time, reaching out finally and running a hand down Yuuri’s back where he sat on the hotel bed, still half-dressed. Yuuri jumped, turning to look over his shoulder at Viktor’s concerned expression.

“S-sorry! I was just...thinking.”

Viktor smiled, moving to sit beside Yuuri on the bed and pressing their shoulders together. He let Yuuri take a few steadying breaths, soaking in his warmth as he waited for him to continue. He held his gloves in his hand, running his thumb over the smooth fabric to keep his hands busy. “You—” Yuuri began again, cutting himself off and taking another shaky breath. “You won’t...go easy on me at the NHK Trophy, right? Just because we’re…” he trailed off, shaking his head and pursing his lips. “You’ll do your absolute best, right?”

Viktor felt his heart stuttering in his chest just looking at the wide, determined eyes Yuuri turned up at him.

“Of course,” he said with a serious nod. “I respect you too much as a skater and as my student to give you any less.” Yuuri nodded, still looking unsure, as his fingers found a stray thread on his pants and fiddled with it.

“I’m sorry. It’s stupid, of course you’ll give it your all, I know that. Sorry, I—”

“Yuuri, why are you apologizing? It’s okay, солнышко.”

Yuuri stood up, rolling his shoulders and pacing the hotel room, though he tried to disguise it as getting ready.

“I’m just—it’s—how could I ever think that Viktor Nikiforov would throw a competition, you know? Because of me? That was...dumb.”

“You don’t have to say it like that,” Viktor said, feeling something tight in his throat. He tried to clear it, tried to dislodge the uncomfortable lump but found that he could not. He clenched his fist.

“Say what like what?” Yuuri asked, still distracted by buttoning and unbuttoning his shirt.

“My name. You said it like I’m still just your idol, or your coach. Instead of someone who loves you very dearly.”

“I...did?” Yuuri froze by the closet, fingers still holding a button in the middle of his shirt. Viktor sighed, pushing himself up from the bed and walking closer to Yuuri. He reached out to caress his face gently.

“You did,” he confirmed. “Honestly, Yuuri. I would retire all over again if it would make you happy. Part of the reason I ended up deciding to come back at all is because you wanted me to.”

Yuuri just stared at him, hands shaking and still frozen mid-air. Viktor reached out to take them, running his thumb over Yuuri’s ring and smiling. He leaned down to bump their foreheads together before he brushed their noses and laid a soft chaste kiss on Yuuri’s lips. “Don’t ever think that Viktor Nikiforov wouldn’t throw a competition for you if you wanted it. I’ve heard he has a crush on you.”

Yuuri stared at him, wide-eyed for a moment before he fell into a fit of quiet laughter. His eyes brightened immediately, hands no longer shaking as they pulled away from Viktor’s hold and reached up to tangle in his hair. Yuuri pulled him down for another kiss, which he happily reciprocated.

“You’d better not. I want to beat you fair and square,” Yuuri told him. “Someday,” he amended, looking away for a moment. His eyes clouded over for another second before he shook his head and smiled. It was a little forced, but Viktor decided not to comment on it.

“Come on, Phichit will get antsy soon, and we still need to convince Yurio to join us.”

“Do you really think we should bother him, Viktor?”

“Of course! What good will it do him to sulk in his room?” Viktor asked, slipping his jacket on over a warm sweater and looking himself over in the mirror. Yuuri shrugged.

“I just don’t know if he wants to see us right now.”

Viktor smiled softly, turning back to Yuuri and stepping forward to button up the rest of his shirt. Once he was finished he let his hands slide down and around Yuuri’s hips, tugging him closer. Yuuri jumped before relaxing against Viktor’s chest and smirking up at him, tilting his head to the side.

“There’s no harm in asking, right?” Viktor asked, an innocent smile on his face, though he could tell that Yuuri saw right through it. With a resigned sigh, Yuuri nodded.

“Sure, let’s go.”

__

As soon as Viktor knocked on the door, the sound of something heavy slamming into it on the other side responded.

“Go away!” Yuri shouted.

“Viktor, he doesn’t want to go out right now,” Yuuri said at his side, frowning and still glancing at the door.

“Yurio!” Viktor called anyway. “We’re going to dinner with Yuuri’s friend. We want you to come with us!”

“Leave me alone, old man!” Yuri shouted back.

“Staying in your room all by yourself will only make you feel worse,” Viktor said, voice slightly quieter but still clearly making it through the door.

“I don’t need you to take pity on me.”

“What should I be pitying you for?” Viktor asked. Yuuri shot him a tired glare, but he ignored it. This was all part of the plan. “Getting taller isn’t a bad thing, so why should I feel bad for you?”

Silence stretched on and Yuuri sighed, looking up at Viktor and tilting his head back toward the elevator.

“We should leave him alone,” he said just as the door cracked open. Yuri glared out at them.

“If you two start acting super mushy I’ll leave,” he said. Viktor nodded, a bright, triumphant smile stretching his lips. Yuuri tried to hide the flush on his cheeks by looking away as he nodded as well. Yuri pulled the door open slightly, setting one foot outside the door and he looking between them again.

"How much, exactly, is 'super mushy,' by the way, just so we know?" Viktor asked. Yuri rolled his eyes.

“You’re buying me dinner,” he said instead of answering the question. Viktor nodded again, smile blinding as he clapped Yuri on the back when he stepped fully outside his room and let the door lock itself behind him. Yuri clicked his tongue.

They all stepped into the elevator, and once the doors were closed, Yuri spoke again. “So how’s your leg, geezer?” he asked. Viktor smirked as Yuuri’s shoulders tensed again at the mention of his so-called injury.

“It’s fine now, thank you for your concern, Yurio,” he said. Yuri rolled his eyes, dodging a would-be hug from him as Viktor leaned to the side. Viktor stumbled, laughing softly as he bumped into the opposite wall of the elevator.

“Viktor!” Yuuri said, looking over at him and reaching his arms out as if to catch him. Viktor smiled.

“I’m really fine, Yuuri.”

His fingers curled into weak fists before dropping to his side and he nodded slowly. The elevator chimed and they all stepped off in the lobby, only needing a moment to locate Phichit who waved at them with a sunny grin.

“Yuuri!” he called, slinging his arm over Yuuri’s shoulder and pulling him into a soft hug. “Hi, Viktor! Hi, Yuri!” Viktor nodded and Yuri just scoffed, stuffing his hands into his pockets. Phichit took it in stride, laughing and pulling Yuuri toward the doors. “Follow me!”

The restaurant was larger and cozier that Yuuri had been expecting. He could feel Viktor’s hand on the small of his back as they were lead to a table, but his mind wandered without his permission. All he could think about was the competition. How he needed to make it to the Final.

Viktor glanced down at him after they had ordered their drinks. He clearly saw his hands shaking, but stayed quiet, slipping his fingers into Yuuri’s.

Yuuri’s heart leapt in his chest, but in that moment, the touch felt suffocating. He pulled his hand away gently, trying not to look at the sad, confused face Viktor sent his way. Yuri glanced between them with a frown, trying to keep up with the conversation he was having with Phichit at the same time.

Once their food was ordered, Yuuri excused himself, shaking off the hand Viktor reached out to make sure he was okay. He made his way to the bathroom and leaned on the counter. He looked up to meet his reflection and almost recoiled at the dead look in his eyes.

He turned on the sink to splash cool water onto his face and tried to focus on the feeling of the water hitting his skin, instead of the competition. Instead of the scores. Instead of making it into the final. He rolled his shoulders, trying to relieve the crawling tension beneath his skin but felt it only seem to intensify.

He had promised Viktor that he would not only win gold at the next Grand Prix Final, while skating against him, but also that he would win at least five consecutive World Championship titles. Who was he kidding? He would never do that. How could he ever think that he could beat Viktor? Viktor was incredible and talented and still in his prime, how was he supposed to compete with that when he had only just gained the confidence to consistently land his jumps in competition the year before?

His hands were trembling against the counter and his jaw ached. He consciously unclenched his teeth with a shaking breath. The air was too thin, his lungs were too small. His body itched. His clothes were too tight. The room was spinning.

The door to the bathroom opened and Yuuri was sure that his legs had gone completely numb beneath him and his stomach dropped. He couldn’t let someone see him like this. If Yuri saw he would just yell at him all over again. He whirled around, gasping and shaking as his eyes landed on Phichit in the doorway.

“Oh, Yuuri,” he whispered, moving forward and standing close to him, but not touching. “Can you tell me what happened?” he asked. Yuuri shrugged, taking a deep breath and feeling as if nothing was filling his lungs. He let out a soft whine as he reached up to tug at his hair. “Yuuri, hey, it’s okay, don’t worry about it,” Phichit told him softly, a kind smile on his lips. “No, no, don’t take any more deep breaths. I know it’s hard, but I’m right here. You’re hyperventilating. Breathe with me, like this,” he said, pursing his lips and taking a slow breath. Yuuri tried to copy him, but his lips were trembling and he shook his head. “That’s okay, it’s fine, it’s fine. Stay here for just a second, okay? I’ll be right back, Yuuri,” he said, waiting for Yuuri to nod in understanding before walking back out of the bathroom.

Yuuri leaned back against the counter, trying to get oxygen into his lungs but just feeling a tight ache. He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes and tried to stop his body from trembling.

Long moments passed before he could hear faint voices from outside the bathroom.

“Thank you, my French really isn’t very good,” Phichit said.

“Why can’t I see him?” Viktor’s voice came through strikingly clearly and Yuuri shivered. He couldn’t let Viktor see him like this, he had to get himself under control. He took another deep breath, but it only served to make his legs feel weaker.

“Viktor, please just let me handle it,” Phichit said. “If I can’t manage then I will come get you. He’s going to be fine.”

“I know he is, Yuuri’s a very strong person, I just—”

“Viktor, just go sit down. I’ve got this.”

A tense silence stretched on before Phichit entered the bathroom alone, holding a large paper bag in his hands and smiling. “Okay, Yuuri, will you take some breaths into this for me? Just a couple, and not too deep, alright?”

Yuuri nodded, shaking fingers grasping the bag and holding it up to his mouth and nose. He took a slow breath and exhaled. “That’s a great one, Yuuri, do a few more,” Phichit told him. Yuuri nodded, breathing slowly into the bag and feeling sensation begin to seep into his body again. The room stopped spinning and his body started to shake less.

Phichit took his wrist a few moments later, gently pulling his hand away from his face with a reassuring grin. “Don’t take too many, remember?” he asked. Yuuri nodded, looking down at the ground and feeling the shame begin to creep over him.

“I’m sorry, Phichit,” he whispered, fingers gripping the bag tighter.

“Yuuri, you know that it’s fine,” Phichit said seriously, leaning on the counter beside him and bumping their shoulders together. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

Yuuri bit his lip, shrugging one shoulder and looking away.

“I’m...I need to score high tomorrow or I might not make it into the Final and disappoint Viktor and everyone after I promised that I would win gold if he coached me for another year. I told him that, even though I’ll be skating against him, how arrogant am I?” Yuuri said, thoughts still slightly disjointed, but hoping he was getting his point across. Phichit hummed, leaning back and looking up at the ceiling.

“There’s no reason you can’t do that, right? Who cares that he’s the five-time consecutive world champion? You’re Yuuri Katsuki, the guy who broke his long-time free-skating record. I know that he believes in you, and I do, too. Although, I’ll still do my best to beat you,” Phichit said, lighthearted and bubbly. Yuuri smiled, feeling his body sagging with exhaustion.

“Thanks,” he said. “I still just…”

“You can’t help it, Yuuri, don’t beat yourself up about it. But maybe you should talk to Viktor about everything. He’s been good about it so far, right?”

Yuuri nodded, hiking his shoulders up slightly as he did.

“I just feel so bad putting everything on him like that.”

“Yuuri, he’s your fiance,” Phichit said. “It’s not a burden to help you with this kind of stuff for people who care about you. You would do the same for him, right?”

“O-of course I would!”

“That’s probably how he feels, too,” Phichit said in response, tilting his head and laughing as Yuuri’s eyes widened slightly and he flushed. “Come on, I think our food will be out soon.”

Yuuri allowed Phichit to herd him back to the table, a soft touch on his shoulder. He felt the knots in his stomach loosen slightly as the touch didn’t feel too hot anymore.

He settled himself beside Viktor and did his best to smile at the worried look he received. He was too tired to talk about it again in public, so he just leaned his head onto Viktor’s shoulder, finding his hand beneath the table and linking their fingers. Viktor visibly relaxed at the action.

“Hey, pork cutlet bowl, are you okay? What the hell was that just now?”

“U-um I’m fine. It’s nothing, I’m fine,” he said, feeling Viktor squeeze his hand as he started to shake again. He sighed, nuzzling at Viktor’s shoulder in thanks and squeezing his hand back. “I’m okay,” he said firmly. “Thanks for asking, Yurio.”

Yuri huffed, rolling his eyes but perking up as their food was placed in front of them. It smelled delicious, but Yuuri found that his stomach was still mostly in knots, and he was only able to eat a small portion of it.

Viktor opted to eat with one hand, the other moving from Yuuri’s grasp and sliding around his back. His fingers grazed Yuuri’s hip as they ate and joked. Well, Viktor and Phichit joked. Yuuri was just too tired and Yuri seemed to be more concerned with his own meal and glancing over at Yuuri every few minutes. Yuuri smiled into Viktor’s shoulder once he was finished pushing the remnants of his meal around and pretending to still be eating.

He shot a reassuring smile in Yuri’s direction when he caught him looking. Yuri scowled and looked away.

Once the food had been eaten, and leftovers had been packed up, Phichit stretched his hands above his head with a loud yawn.

“I’m exhausted, I think I’m just going to turn in,” he said, looking between Viktor and Yuri. Viktor nodded, pulling Yuuri just slightly closer to his side.

“I think that’s a good idea, especially with the free skate tomorrow,” he said. Yuri didn’t say anything as he leaned back in his chair. “Is that alright, Yuuri?” Viktor asked. Yuuri smiled up at him, nodding. Viktor paid the tab, ignoring Phichit’s insistence that he could pay for himself and winking at him.

Phichit deflated with a weak laugh and tugged Viktor toward him once they were all standing.

“Smile, then, I didn’t get a selfie with you last time we saw each other,” Phichit told him. He pulled his phone up and smiled, taking a few pictures and nodding to himself in approval. “Awesome, these are great,” he said absently, going about crafting a new Instagram post. Viktor grinned, hand finding Yuuri’s and pulling him toward the exit.

The group made their journey in relative silence with Yuri trailing behind slightly. Yuuri pursed his lips as he saw him drifting further and further behind the group, but decided to wait until they made it back to the hotel.

Viktor, Yuuri, and Yuri parted from Phichit in the lobby as he said he wanted to talk to Celestino about the next day. Yuuri knew that there was no way Phichit was actually going to go back to his room before he spent a good while sight-seeing, but he still nodded his thanks as Phichit made his way further into the hotel.

Viktor and Yuuri escorted Yuri to his room, much to his displeasure.

“God just go to your own room already, I can go down a hallway by myself,” he said.

“Maybe we want to say goodbye to you properly,” Viktor said, to which Yuri scoffed.

“That’s stupid, and you’ll see me in the morning.”

“This may come as a surprise to you, Yurio, but we actually do like you.”

“If you like me so much then why don’t you take a hint and leave me alone,” he grumbled once they reached his door. Viktor and Yuuri still hovered and he rolled his eyes. “What now?” They shared a glance and after a moment of contemplation, Yuuri stepped forward. He laid both hands on Yuri’s shoulders.

“You’ll be fine tomorrow. No matter what happens, just skate the absolute best that you can,” he said. Yuri frowned at him and nodded as he looked away. Yuuri squeezed his shoulders once more before releasing his hold and watching Yuri retreat into his room.

“That went well,” Viktor said, lacing their fingers as they walked back down the hall and opened the door into the stairwell since their room was only a floor above. Yuuri nodded. His limbs were heavy as he dragged himself up the stairs, but Viktor didn’t make a comment on how slow he was moving, which he was grateful for.

It wasn’t until their door was securely closed behind them that Viktor spoke up again. “Yuuri,” he began, his tone sending red flags through Yuuri’s mind. He just hummed a response as he started to undress and get ready for bed. “At the restaurant. Do you want to talk about it?”

Yuuri pressed his head against the wall and tried to keep himself together.

“Not really. Not right now.”

“Okay,” Viktor said, like it was the easiest thing to just let it go, to let him sort out his thoughts before talking about it again. Yuuri looked up and glanced over his shoulder at him as he slipped his jacket off and laid it over the chair in the corner of the room.

“Thank you,” he whispered. Viktor looked at him and tilted his head. He nodded after a moment, creeping closer to Yuuri with a soft smile. Once he was close enough, he took Yuuri’s waist and pushed him against the wall as he kissed him softly. Yuuri reciprocated tiredly, but with a smile. His hands crept up to cradle Viktor’s neck and jaw.

“You’re so amazing, моё золотце. You know that don’t you?” Viktor whispered against his lips and Yuuri shuddered, laughing into another kiss.

“V-Viktor,” he hummed once Viktor moved to press his lips against his neck. Viktor’s hands gripped his hips firmly, thumbs rubbing against his skin in slow circles as his shirt rode up. Yuuri laughed at the way Viktor’s lips and hair tickled his skin, arms wrapping around his shoulders to pull him just that little bit closer.

A moment later, Viktor’s hands were sliding down his hips and gripping at the backs of his thighs. He barely had a second to realize what was happening before Viktor was lifting him up and encouraging his legs to wrap around his slim waist. Yuuri’s back pressed harder into the wall as he gasped.

Viktor’s lips trailed down his neck, distracting him momentarily and making him tighten his legs around Viktor’s hips. That thought drew him out of it as he pushed on Viktor’s shoulders and struggled to get back on the ground.

“Yuuri, what’s wrong? What happened?” Viktor asked as he set Yuuri down immediately and stepped back to look him over.

“You can’t just go around picking me up!” Yuuri said, near frantic. “You could hurt yourself and we’re in the middle of a competition!”

Viktor stayed very still for a long moment before he let out a whiny sigh and dropped his forehead on Yuuri’s shoulder.

“I don’t think I’ll survive this,” he said, voice low and making Yuuri look down at him in shock. Viktor pulled away to make a show of falling onto the bed. Once he was lying diagonally across the bedspread with his hands covering his face, Yuuri rolled his eyes. “I’m not even thirty and my fiance thinks I’m too old to pick him up and make out against a wall,” he lamented loudly to the ceiling.

“Viktor,” Yuuri sighed, sitting at the end of the bed.

“Now I’m balding _and_ decrepit, I don’t think I’ll make it any further. Just leave me to die, Yuuri. It’s just around the corner anyway.”

“You’re not balding,” Yuuri said, laying down on the bed beside Viktor and running his fingers through his hair. He realized belatedly that his chest felt much lighter and smiled down at Viktor still pouting into his hands. “And you’re not _old_ ,” he added, pulling one of Viktor’s hands away from his face and peering into his eyes. “Your leg _just_ stopped hurting, I don’t want to make it worse or injure it again is all.”

“The wall was doing most of the work,” Viktor mumbled, refusing to meet Yuuri’s eyes. Yuuri sighed, rolling to lay across Viktor’s chest and pressing his lips to his neck. Yuuri’s nose bumped into his jaw, and a small laugh bubbled up past Viktor’s lips. The smile Yuuri shot up at him when Viktor looked down was smug and bright and Viktor was completely unable to resist sitting up and pulling him into a proper kiss.

“We should probably stop for tonight,” Yuuri said as he pulled away, face flushed. Viktor frowned again, glancing back at the clock on the bedside table.

“It’s not very late,” he said. Yuuri played with the sleeve of his shirt and shrugged, shrinking in on himself, and immediately Viktor understood.

“I’m just...really tired right now,” Yuuri said, taking a deeper breath to keep explaining when Viktor’s hand ran down his forearm and settled on his hand.

“I understand, it’s alright.”

Yuuri nodded, sitting forward to peck Viktor’s lips once more before slipping off the bed and grabbing something to sleep in from his bag. Viktor laid back down on the bed, propped up on his arms and just watched him. Yuuri slipped his shirt and pants off easily, body more relaxed than at the restaurant. His glasses were a little lopsided, not at all helped by the way he threw a t-shirt over his head, catching them on the collar for a short moment. He shook his head once the shirt was on, adjusting his glasses and wrinkling his nose to try to move the nose pads into a more comfortable position. It didn’t appear to work out all that well.

He slipped on sweatpants and walked into the bathroom to finish getting ready for bed. Viktor sat up, slipping off the edge of the bed and removing his own clothing. He picked up Yuuri’s discarded shirt and pants and set them all into a small laundry bag.

He usually didn’t bother with pajamas, preferring to sleep in his underwear or nothing at all, finding that sleeping in clothing felt hot and restricting. He would if it were truly necessary, though.

He walked into the bathroom, gently hip-checking Yuuri as he stepped up beside him at the sink in order to brush his teeth. Yuuri grinned, playfully elbowing Viktor’s ribs and only really succeeding in tickling him.

By the time the lights were out, Yuuri was practically dead on his feet. Viktor was worried about him being able to get to sleep before the competition, but as soon as they settled in and Yuuri’s head hit his pillow, he was out. Viktor snuggled into Yuuri’s warmth, smiling and pulling his phone out to check his social media until he got tired.

Yuuri moved in his sleep until Viktor was laying on his back and his face was pressed into his neck. Viktor let his free hand run through Yuuri’s steadily lengthening hair while he mindlessly scrolled through Instagram.

After a few minutes, he found Phichit’s post and smirked.

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 **♥** ** _christophe-gc_** _,_ ** _minako-okukawa_** and **856 others**

 **phichit+chu** Fully clothed dinner before the free skate! #viktornikiforov #phichit #paris #dinner

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1 hour ago

Viktor smirked, liking the photo and closing the app, setting his phone on the side table.

__

Viktor watched Yuri and the two new young skaters finish their warm-up, he could feel Yuuri buzzing beside him, watching intently.

“He’ll be fine, Yuuri,” he said. Yuuri just bit his lip with a small shrug. Phichit stood beside them, watching the competition intently, patting Yuuri’s shoulder softly without moving his eyes from the ice. Yuuri had still been uncomfortable talking to Viktor about whatever happened at dinner the previous night, but Viktor was determined to let him bring it up in his own time, no matter how worried he was.

__

Yakov was talking to him, but Yuri could barely hear it. His heart was pounding already, Yuuri’s words from the night before echoing through his mind. He wanted for those two to be proud of him for a reason, not just because they were always proud of him.

It felt like only a moment before Yakov’s hand came down on his shoulder and he whipped his head around.

“Yuri, are you ready?” he asked. He wanted to say no. He wanted to talk to Otabek, to get reassurance from his friend. Anything. He nodded.

The fifth place skater stepped off the ice looking shaken and made his way to the kiss and cry with his coach. Yuri didn’t hear his score as he braced himself against the boards to mentally prepare. He took a deep breath before pushing away and skating to the middle of the rink.

He took his starting position and waited.

_“You’ve already grown 5 centimeters since the start of last season,” Yakov said when it was clear that Yuri was having an issue landing jumps he had previously been comfortable with. “We should reduce the jump composition for this season and focus on other elements.”_

_“No! I can do it!” he shouted. “Pork cutlet bowl is doing four quads again and so is Viktor.”_

_“You’re only going to get hurt pushing your body like this,” Yakov argued, looking increasingly irritated._

_“I can do it!” Yuri argued back, clenching his fists. Yakov stared at the young skater, seemingly contemplating how to approach the situation. Eventually he sighed, muttering to himself, though Yuri could still hear him._

_“You’re just as bad as Vitya.”_

“Yuri Plisetsky of Russia, age sixteen. He has three quads of two different types planned. His program was choreographed by Lilia Baranovskaya,” the commentator said.

Yuri moved his feet, barely able to hear the music. “He came in third at Skate America so he needs to place third or higher in order to qualify for the final.”

_Mila was leaning on the boards when he looked up after crashing to the ground. Another failed jump. She smiled softly holding out his water bottle._

_“You’re thinking about it too much,” she said. “You won’t land all your jumps while you’re growing, but you’re trying too hard and missing every single one of them,” she told him. He scoffed, snatching the bottle from her hands and taking a long drink._

_“What do you know, grandma?” he snapped._

_“I know that it was like that for me,” she said. “It wasn’t quite as extreme for me, but you’re growing a lot.”_

_“Shut up, I know that.”_

_Mila gave him a sort of fond yet put-out smile. “How did you even know I was here, shouldn’t you be on a date or something?”_

_“Viktor told me that you would probably still be practicing and asked me to check on you since I forgot something here.”_

_“Of course it was that geezer.”_

_“He’s just looking out for you, you know.”_

_“Well I didn’t ask him to.”_

_“You’re so difficult, Yuri,” she said. “He cares about you. We all do.”_

_“Whatever,” Yuri replied, stepping off the ice and shoving his skate guards on._

“His first jump is a triple axel, here it comes,” the commentator said. Yuri swallowed past a lump in his throat and prepared himself. “Ah, he stepped out of the landing.”

He had to stay calm, he couldn’t think too much about making the jump, that would just make it worse. He just had to trust himself. But how could he trust his body when it was so off balance?

“And here comes the quadruple toe-loop, triple toe-loop combination.”

His body crashed into the ground and he clenched his teeth as he pushed himself back up to continue, relieved to have reached the step sequence for once.

“He fell, but there were enough rotations on his quad, however he was unable to complete the second jump.”

He could feel himself relaxing as he glided across the ice, practiced movements practically second-nature at that point. Yuuri’s words returned to him and he breathed a soft sigh.

_“No matter what happens, just skate the absolute best that you can.”_

He wanted to scoff. What else was he going to do?

With a set jaw, he let his shoulders relax and flew through the rest of his step sequence. He was going to beat Yuuri completely one day. He was sure of it.

“What a powerful step sequence.”

He fell on three of his last five jumps, but all he wanted was for the program to be over. He couldn’t stand to be there any longer.

When he finally moved into his final pose, he could hardly hold it for more than a moment before his eyes stung and he slumped over, covering his face and scrubbing at his eyes angrily. He didn’t need to see his score to know that he didn’t qualify for the final, and his heart ached.

__

Viktor could see Yuuri take off running before Yuri’s program was even completely finished. He called after him, trying to tell him that running in his skates was a very bad idea. It was pointless as he chased after him, knowing where he was going.

Viktor watched as Yuri stepped off the ice only to be immediately slammed into and engulfed in a tight hug. He looked shocked as he reached up to grip at Yuuri’s jacket. Viktor moved closer, smiling softly as Yuri continued to scrub at his eyes.

“I don’t need your stupid comfort,” he mumbled into Yuuri’s shoulder. Yuuri just squeezed his shoulders tighter.

“I know you don’t.”

“I’m gonna kick your ass at Worlds.”

“I’ll be waiting, then,” Yuuri told him with a smile. “Your step sequence was amazing, Yurio.”

Yuri didn’t respond as he pulled away, nodding to Viktor and following Lilia and Yakov to the kiss and cry, schooling his features once the cameras were on him.

__

Once Phichit took the ice, Yuuri started to look jittery again. Viktor knew he couldn’t take him away to calm down with how little time they had, so he settled for cupping Yuuri’s face and looking into his eyes to draw his attention.

“I know that you’re going skate beautifully,” he said. “I believe in you and your skating.”

Yuuri stared up at him with wide eyes before smiling and nodding once.

“Right,” he said. Viktor grinned before leaning in to wrap his arms around Yuuri’s shoulders.

“Besides,” he sighed wistfully. “I want to start kissing your gold medals already.”

Yuuri laughed in his arms, rolling his eyes.

“You can kiss your own gold medals, is that not enough?”

“They’d be more fun when they’re Yuuri’s medals, though,” Viktor said, drawing another sigh out of Yuuri. He just laughed.

Phichit landing a quadruple salchow on the ice drew both of their attention in and Yuuri’s grin only brightened. Phichit had improved significantly in just one year, and Viktor was sure he would be in the Final. He could feel excitement bubbling in his stomach at the idea of watching him get even better and competing against him.

Before long, Phichit moved into his final pose and the crowd erupted. Viktor reached down to take Yuuri’s hand, kissing his ring with a small grin. Yuuri grinned back, determination clear in his eyes.

He congratulated Phichit as he stepped off the ice and Phichit just smiled back, wishing him good luck.

Yuuri stepped onto the ice and took a deep breath, turning to share one last look with Viktor before he had to get into place. Phichit had earned a new personal best, and the pride in Yuuri’s chest was almost outweighing the nerves.

“Our second to last skater is Yuuri Katsuki of Japan,” the commentator said once Yuuri’s music began. He stretched his arm up slowly, skating in a narrow circle as he brought it down to his chest.

Viktor made this program for him, just like the last one, and he needed to show just how much it meant to him. “His program was choreographed by Viktor Nikiforov, and is meant to express the relationship trust has in Katsuki’s daily life and when dealing with his anxiety.”

The music was speeding up and Yuuri prepared himself, pushing off into a camel spin and then down into a sit spin.

“Katsuki has four quads planned for his program.”

He stood again, gaining speed before digging his toe pick into the ice and pushing off. “Quad toe-loop. Excellent.”

_“You want to do three quads in the second half and end with the flip again? Are you sure, Yuuri?” Viktor had asked as they were discussing his jump composition. Yuuri had nodded._

_“I think that I can do it,” he had said, in a moment of confidence. “If I’m going to beat you and take the World Championship title, then I have to use everything I have.”_

_Viktor had grinned, a flash of competitiveness lighting up his eyes as he tapped his pencil against the notebook in his hands._

_“Using your stamina against me, Yuuri?” he teased. “I like it.” He nodded and wrote in the last jump, looking it over one last time before meeting Yuuri’s eyes again. “Let’s start practicing.”_

“Quadruple salchow, single loop, triple toe-loop. Beautiful form.”

Yuuri could feel the adrenaline making his fingertips tingle. He was getting close to the end. He moved into the step sequence, moving fast and pushing into a camel spin. He lifted his leg after a moment, reaching up to grab his skate and spinning even faster.

“Another quadruple salchow—oh he stepped out of the landing.”

It was fine, he could still do this. He gained speed again before launching into a triple axel-triple loop combination. He over rotated the last jump but forced himself not to focus on it.

“His last jump is a quadruple flip.”

Yuuri came out of his last choreographic sequence and thought of Viktor at the boards, watching intently like always. With his breath steadied, he kicked off, landing to roaring applause.

“Incredible! For the second year in a row Yuuri Katsuki lands a quadruple flip at the end of his program! It looks like he’s still not done surprising us!”

Yuuri ended his program, his right hand reaching up again, breathing hard. It took him a moment to register the sound of the crowd cheering. He stumbled slightly as he looked around, smiling and bowing.

When he turned toward the rink gate, his heart leapt. Viktor was smiling, arms out for a hug.

He still lectured him in the kiss and cry, but it only made Yuuri smile more.

It wasn’t a personal best, though that wasn’t surprising. Still, he scored just under 200. His final score was 300.79

He was dragged into a number of interviews before he could pull away to watch Seung-gil’s performance, but judging by the crowd, he did exceptionally well.

When he was finally released from his interviewing obligations, he stumbled upon Viktor just a short way away from him. He was covering his mouth with his hand, staring at the television screen.

Yuuri’s heart plummeted. Was it that bad? He cautiously approached Viktor only for him to turn and beam at him. Yuuri frowned, looking up at the TV and nearly stumbling backwards in shock.

__

“And here are the final scores. Dylan Simmons in sixth with a final score of 263.87 points, Alfons Fischer with 270.77, Yuri Plisetsky with 277.66, Seung-gil Lee with 299.76, Phichit Chulanont with 299.77, and Yuuri Katsuki with 300.79.”

Phichit grabbed him once the award ceremony was over, pulling Seung-gil close as well and raising his camera and his silver medal. Yuuri smiled indulgently into the camera. He could feel his body sagging with relief.

He was still scared to face Viktor, to experience the same thing that happened the last time they competed on the same ice.

He clutched the gold medal in his hand, shaking his head. He wasn’t the same as he was then. He was stronger. He had won his first gold medal. It wasn’t his best performance, but he could practice. He could do better. Maybe he could keep his promise to Viktor. Someday, at least.

He skated back to the rink gate and stepped out, face heating up as he held his medal out from his chest toward Viktor.

“S-so, um,” he murmured, holding the medal up higher to speak for him. Viktor tilted his head and smiled. He leaned in to press a quick peck to Yuuri’s medal before ducking under the ribbon holding it and leaning in to peck Yuuri’s cheek before engulfing him in a tight hug.

“I”m so proud of you, моё золотце,” he murmured against Yuuri’s ear. Yuuri smiled into his shoulder, hugging him even tighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! I'm gonna try to update on Fridays from now on, I think it will work the best with my work and school schedule. But I hope that this chapter was alright! I'm going to be approaching the conflicts with as much realism as possible? So with anxiety and stress and those sorts of things. (or Viktor's leg..)
> 
> I do apologize if this chapter isn't as good as the past ones, my anxiety's been really kicking my ass lately, but I did my best to keep this up to par!! Please let me know if anything seems wonky or strange and I'll fix it lickety-split! Just for notice, Yuuri's anxiety, and any depictions of it are going to be based a lot around my own, since it's my best frame of reference, but if anything seems really wrong totally let me know and I will revise it!!
> 
> Once again, I'm not a figure skating expert, so any jumps or spins that are wrong or anything, totally let me know!! As usual, I'm not a Russian expert, so again let me know if any words or phrases are exceptionally wrong, but I am doing my best!! 
> 
> If you have something to say and a moment to spare, please comment and let me know how I'm doing, I'd love to hear from you! 
> 
> солнышко - sunshine/my sunshine  
> моё золотце - my gold
> 
> Okay, I think that's all for now! Have a great day, and be safe, you guys! 
> 
> ~JD


	4. Grand Prix Series Qualifiers! NHK Trophy Short Program: Yuuri versus Viktor!!

“Vitya, what are you doing?” Yakov shouted from across the rink. Viktor was leaning his arm on the boards, trying to catch his breath. The ache was back, deep in his hip and he tried to force himself to ignore the pain as he stood straighter and sent a bright smile toward Yakov.

“Nothing, just catching my breath,” he said.

“I can see that, I’m asking you why you’re still practicing when I told you to stop for the day.”

“I wanted to make sure my free skate was perfect, that’s all,” he said, though it only made Yakov’s face go even redder as he slammed his fist down on the boards.

“I told you to stop pushing yourself! Do you want to hurt your leg all over again?”

“My leg is fine!” he snapped, face toward the ice and voice much louder than he had intended. He gasped and shot his head up to look at Yakov’s stunned expression. “I just can’t surprise anyone if I don’t try as hard as possible, right?” he amended, throwing on another smile for good measure. His hip seemed to pulse just to spite him. He grimaced, moving his hand down and trying to subtly massage the pain away.  

“Just go home, Vitya. Katsuki is looking for you.”

Viktor looked away, his bangs falling over his face enough to hide his scowl, but not the way his body began to tremble.

“Yes, sir.”

Yakov watched him step off the ice and slip his skate guards on before he was apparently satisfied with Viktor’s ability to follow his instructions. Viktor made his way to the locker room, visibly sulking, and plopped down onto a bench to unlace his skates.

A presence appeared beside him and he spared a quick glance up to see Yuuri standing there, his bag slung over his shoulder and his fingers wrapped tightly around the strap. He rocked on his heels, pointedly not looking at Viktor.

Viktor sighed, slipping his feet out of his skates and making sure they were clean before setting them in his bag. He lifted his shoes to slip them on when Yuuri’s hand ran through his hair gently.

“Viktor?” he asked softly. Viktor bit back a groan as he stood despite his hip’s protests, turning to run his hands down Yuuri’s shoulders reassuringly.

“What’s bothering you, солнышко?” he asked. Yuuri bit at his lip, fingers curling into the fabric of Viktor’s shirt.

“Why do you keep...pushing yourself like this?” he asked. “You’re exhausted but you’re still overworking and ignoring Yakov, and I…”

“I just want my program to be as polished as possible. I want to give you the _best_ performance possible, I want us both to compete at our best, that’s all.”

“Is this because of what I said in Paris?” he asked. “Because I don’t want you to destroy your body, I just want to compete against you doing your best.”

“I know that,” Viktor said, thankful that the ache in his hip was ebbing as he tried to make his words as convincing as possible. “I want to make sure that I’m giving you my best.”

Yuuri sighed, nodding and cupping Viktor’s face in his gentle hands.

“You will,” he said, face flushing slightly as he leaned in to press a short kiss to Viktor’s lips. Viktor felt his heart leap in his chest at the relatively public gesture. “Please just rest for a bit, okay? Just to put me at ease.”

Viktor pushed their foreheads together with a small nod, trying to quell his racing heart and the pulsing need running through his body to keep practicing, to meet everyone’s expectations of him. Yuuri’s hands never left his jaw as they stood in the locker room.

He could hear someone enter behind them, hoping they wouldn’t say anything. Yuuri smiled to them, nodding slightly in acknowledgement before they silently slid their skates on. Viktor fleetingly thought that it must be Georgi since he usually started private practices with Yakov in the late afternoon.

With a deep breath, Viktor pulled back, smiling to Georgi with a friendly wave as he grabbed his own bag. Georgi looked between them with soft eyes and a smile, nodding back and bidding them farewell as they departed.

Yuuri held his hand as they went, and he tried not to let his mounting fears ruin the time they spent together. Though he was sure Yuuri noticed something was wrong.

__

That night, Yuuri laid in his side, looking Viktor over critically. A small frown tugged at his lips as he moved his eyes from Viktor’s hip back up to his eyes.

“You would tell me if you leg started to hurt again, right?” he asked. A weight filled the emptiness in Viktor’s stomach as he met Yuuri’s eyes, doing his best not to waver or look away.

He smiled after a moment, leaning in to steal a kiss from Yuuri’s lips instead of answering. Yuuri kissed him back softly, though Viktor could feel the way he tensed once their lips met.

“Everything will be fine, моя любовь.”

Yuuri pulled back after another short kiss, taking a steadying breath. Viktor felt a sudden sense of vertigo as his stomach flipped and his vision blacked out around the edges. Did Yuuri know? It's not like the pain was that bad, and it always went away after a few minutes. It was probably just a strain if some kind, once the final was over he could rest it. It would be fine.

“At the restaurant, in Paris,” he began, and Viktor could feel his entire body droop in relief as he nodded and listened. “I was...I was really worried about scoring high enough to make it to the final since I would be skating against you at the NHK Trophy next week.”

Viktor listened intently, nodding as Yuuri looked up with pursed lips and a small half-shrug. “I...didn't want to disappoint you.”

Viktor reached out to run his hand through Yuuri’s hair, trying to quell his worries. “I know it's stupid, but it just took over and everything slipped through my fingers and before I knew it…”

“It's okay, Yuuri,” Viktor said. “It's okay for you to feel those things and to be worried.”

“I know, it’s just...hard believing it, too. I’m sorry.”

“No, no, моя любовь, don’t be,” Viktor assured softly, leaning in to kiss Yuuri’s forehead and pull him closer. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“You’ve been worried about me since then, I know you have. But afterward it just seemed so stupid,” Yuuri mumbled into Viktor’s collarbone. Viktor nodded, running his nose through Yuuri’s hair as he moved to kiss the top of his head.

“Your fears are what they are, Yuuri, and if it makes you feel that way, then it isn’t stupid.”

“Okay.”

Viktor could feel him nod against his skin and smiled, pulling Yuuri just slightly closer so their bodies were flush together.

“Я тебя люблю,” he whispered, feeling Yuuri smile against his skin and press a soft kiss against it.

“愛してるよ, Viktor,” Yuuri murmured into his chest and Viktor swore he could have swooned. He settled for tugging Yuuri into a startlingly suffocating hug instead, making him yelp out a laugh. Makkachin looked up from the end of the bed, clearly unimpressed with the interruption to his sleep. Viktor scratched behind his ear and was immediately forgiven.

__

Viktor paced their hotel room early in the morning. It was the day of the short program, but his leg was stiff again. He found that moving eased the strange stiffness faster than waiting did. He just hoped that Yuuri wouldn’t wake up before he was ready.

The last thing Viktor wanted to do was make Yuuri’s anxiety worse than it already was the morning of the short program. With a frustrated sigh, Viktor grabbed his jacket and stepped out of the hotel room, intending to take a quick morning walk, hoping that the chilly Sapporo air would calm him down.

He hadn’t been this nervous before a competition in such a long time, the feeling felt suffocating. He idly wondered how Yuuri could possibly handle such a burden regularly. A smile brushed his lips as he thought of just how strong his fiance was when he rammed into a smaller body and jumped back.

He looked down to see Yuri glaring up at him.

“What the hell are you spacing out for the day of a competition?” he snapped. Viktor laughed, grabbing Yuri’s shoulders firmly and squeezing.

“Yurio! I’m so glad you came to support us!”

“I’m just here to see the pork cutlet bowl kick your ass, old man!” Yuri said pointedly, crossing his arms and looking away.

“Yuuri’s program really is great, isn’t it?” Viktor said, nodding and tapping his finger on his lips in thought. “I thought you were in Kazakhstan with Otabek, though.”

“We both came to watch, but don’t read too much into it! Mila’s competing in the women’s division here, too, and she made me promise to watch.”

“Come on a walk with me,” Viktor said, nodding down the hall. Yuri glared at him with a pouted lip.

“Why should I?”

Viktor laughed, stuffing his hands in his pockets and walking down the hall, shrugging his shoulders.

“You just seemed like you wanted to talk, that’s all,” he said. Yuri rolled his eyes before stomping after him.

“Don’t project your own weird feelings onto me, geezer.”

They walked in relatively comfortable silence for a while, getting a cup of coffee and exploring the area near the hotel. They were resting on a bench when Viktor glanced over to see Yuri furiously texting someone.

“So, are you two dating?” he asked casually, sipping at his coffee and keeping his eyes forward. Yuri looked up, startled and tilted his head.

“What? No, why would you even say that?” he asked. Viktor pouted his lip out, tilting his own head and meeting Yuri’s eyes.

“You’re just friends?”

“Huh? No, obviously not,” he said, looking back down at his phone as if Viktor’s line of questioning was no longer worth his time and finished his text.

Viktor’s eyes were furrowed as he took another sip of coffee, trying to sort out his thoughts.

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure I get it,” he said, thinking that perhaps jokes weren’t what the conversation needed, and deciding to stick with honesty to be safe. Yuri huffed as he lowered his phone to his lap, shrugging his shoulders and looking away, eyes distant.

“I don’t know, but it’s not either of those. It’s somewhere in the middle, I guess.” His cheeks were dusted with pink and Viktor couldn’t keep in a soft chuckle.

“‘Somewhere in the middle,’ huh? I guess that’s as good an explanation as any. Are you happy?”

“Ugh, why do you care so much about my personal life, anyway?”

“We’re rink mates, aren’t I allowed to care about your happiness?”

Yuri just scoffed, looking down avidly as his phone vibrated in his hands, quickly sliding the screen open. Viktor settled back into the bench, enjoying the calm silence of the early morning.

“Your leg’s getting worse, isn’t it?” Yuri’s voice startled him and he nearly dropped his remaining coffee in his lap as he looked up at him in bewilderment.

“Why would you say that?”

“Just little things Yakov was shouting at you the the week before I left. Like about you taking more breaks than usual. Or how you started practicing more spins on your left foot when you practice alone even though everyone keeps telling you to stop.”

Viktor laughed, empty and breathless as he tilted his head back and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You haven’t told the pork cutlet bowl, have you?”

“Of course not, he would just keep worrying about it.”

“Well it damn sure seems like something to worry about, so I wouldn’t blame him, old man!” Yuri seethed, standing up to stare down at Viktor, anger practically rolling off of him. “Have you even seen a doctor?”

“I just want to do the final. I’ll get it sorted afterward. It’s just a strain, I just need to rest it. It’ll be fine.”

“You don’t believe that.”

Viktor’s elbows dropped to his knees and he stared down at the cold, stone ground below his feet. He sighed, looking up to Yuri through his bangs with a cracking, empty smile.

“Can you blame me?”

__

“I'm going to get back as soon as possible, okay? I'll keep the interviews as short as I can. I'm sorry, Yuuri,” Viktor said, cupping Yuuri’s face in his hands and running his thumbs over the apples of his cheeks.

Yuuri gave him a queasy, almost-reassuring smile as he wrapped shaking fingers around Viktor’s wrists.

“Don't worry, there's nothing we can do about it. I...I’ll be fine. I—” he cut himself off to take a shaking breath and gave Viktor a much steadier grin. “I can do this. You'll be with me no matter what, right?” he asked. Viktor felt a rush of pride and adrenaline shoot through his body and felt his face brighten. He pulled Yuuri close, arms wrapping tightly around his shoulders.

“You never cease to surprise me, солнышко.”

Yuuri laughed into his shoulder, arms wrapped securely around his waist. After another moment he pulled away and dropped his hands to squeeze Viktor’s own.

“Okay, you need to go get ready, Yakov will be angry if you make him wait any longer.”

Viktor pouted and leaned in to kiss Yuuri’s nose before stepping back and turning away. He made his way toward Yakov as Yuuri walked back to the waiting area.

He took a breath, staring up at the ceiling and thanked whatever higher power was looking down in him for his pleasantly ache-less leg. At least for the moment.

“Are you ready, Vitya?” Yakov asked as they stood by the rink gate waiting for the skater before Viktor to finish his final skate around the ice.

Viktor nodded as the skater stepped off the ice and met his coach with wide smiles and proud pats on the back. They moved to the kiss and cry and Viktor took a calming breath, letting the cool air of the rink chill his lungs and relax his shoulders.

This would be fine. He would be fine.

The overhead speakers boomed around him as he stepped onto the ice.

“And now on the ice is Viktor Nikiforov of Russia. He will be skating to an original piece. His theme this season is 'strength.’ he told us that his programs were inspired by his fiance.”

Viktor did a slow lap around the ice, taking a few breaths and smiling like he was supposed to. “Nikiforov returned this season after taking a year off to coach Katsuki Yuuri who is also competing tonight.”

The crowd gave a loud cheer at that as Viktor moved to the center of the ice. “Everyone is certain that he will make it to the final, but we won't know for sure until after the free skate tomorrow night.

“As of now we only have three confirmed skaters. Those are Phichit Chulanont of Thailand, Christophe Giacometti of Switzerland, and Seung-gil Lee from South Korea. The final three will be decided tonight.”

_“Vitya! Stop daydreaming, your free leg is sloppy!” Yakov had shouted the week before. Viktor blinked and glanced down as he skated along on his left foot, right extended in front of him. With a start he realized that his right leg was indeed poorly extended._

_He was also shocked to realize that it was much more difficult to move it into the correct position than he expected._

_His heart stopped in his chest as he set both of his feet on the ice and stared down at his legs._

_“Sorry,” he said softly, bracing himself with a deep breath before looking up at Yakov with a shimmering grin. “Let me try that again.”_

_Yakov nodded, face set in a surly scowl._

“His first jump will be his signature quad flip.”

Viktor let his body relax, trying not to think about his leg as he kicked off the ice. “Quadruple flip. Beautiful execution, and he will get extra points for the difficult entry.”

_“Vitya!”_

_The loud shout sent him toppling to the ground, missing his triple toeloop landing. He groaned as he pushed himself up on his elbows and looked to the boards. Yakov stood fuming by the rink gate face red and fists clenched._

_Viktor’s long hair fell over his left eye as he met the older man’s heated glare. “What the hell do you think you’re doing practicing at this hour?”_

_“It's the Grand Prix Final next week,” he said by way of explanation. It apparently wasn’t good enough for Yakov._

_“That's no excuse! You're going to destroy your body before you’ve even started your career if you keep pulling stunts like this!” he shouted._

_“I just want it to be perfect, Yakov!”_

_“ If you don't have it down now then you won’t for the final either.”_

_“But I can—!”_

_“Get off the ice now, Vitya. I'm not asking.”_

_Viktor frowned at the ice before pushing himself all the way up and skating slowly to the rink gate where Yakov handed him his skate guards._

_A hair tie was waved in front of his face as he slipped out if his skates and he accepted it with a pout. He pulled the long strands if his hair into a messy pony tail. “Grab your things and I'll drive you home.”_

“And what a beautiful step sequence. His form is as elegant as ever.” 

_Viktor could feel Yuuri’s eyes on his back as he skated around the rink, making final adjustments to his short program before they left for Sapporo._

_Yakov’s eyes followed his movements as well, but Yuuri’s seemed to burn into his skin._

_His hip ached._

_It was worse than it had ever been before and only two weeks before the NHK Trophy._

_He could feel his face twist down in a pinched grimace as he kicked off with his right foot into a triple toeloop._

_He over-rotated but the pain just made him thankful that he managed to land at all._

_“If you keep daydreaming like that I'll make Katsuki leave,” Yakov threatened. Viktor almost laughed, wondering if he would actually make good on that threat._

_Viktor just nodded. He could see Yuuri looking at him with something akin to a scowl, or possibly a grimace. He tried not to think about it._

“Quadruple lutz, double loop, triple toeloop. Stepped out of the landing, but otherwise a gorgeous combination.”

He was starting to get tired.

_“Go sit down if you're in that much pain, old man!” Yuri shouted a few days before he left, allowing Viktor to help him start figuring out his jumps again._

_Viktor frowned, looking toward Yuri with a tilted head. He belatedly realized that he had been massaging at his thigh again. He forced himself to lay his hand at his side and smiled._

_“I'm fine, don't worry about it.”_

_Yuri glared at him, clearly unimpressed with his lie._

_“Is your leg still hurt or something?”_

_“Just a little pinch, it's basically healed now.”_

_Yuri didn't look like he believed him, but kept silent as he skated away to practice a triple salchow again._

“Flying sit spin. Excellent! All of his quads were successful, now he just has a triple-triple combination left and a final choreographic sequence.”

_“Viktor, are you okay? You're walking kind of funny,” Yuuri said a few days before they left St. Petersburg. He had woken up earlier than Viktor was expecting and he couldn't hold in the slight jump as he felt a steadying hand in his back._

_“Fine, Yuuri,” he chimed, trying to will the stiffness away. It would be gone soon, he knew, but he didn’t want Yuuri to get suspicious. “My leg fell asleep, that's all.”_

_Yuuri pouted at him, hands wrapping around Viktor's waist and running over his skin softly._

_“What am I going to do with you?” he asked. Viktor laughed, wrapping his own arms around Yuuri’s back and drawing him in quickly, pressing their lips together. He relished the brief gasp Yuuri let out before kissing back._

_“I'm sure you'll figure it out, моё золотце.”_

_Yuuri hummed, hands trailing up Viktor’s side, over his shoulders and finally setting in his hair. Viktor shivered, trying to suppress the wide grin threatening to pull at his lips in favor of continuing to kiss Yuuri. Eventually, it was too much and he smiled wide, prompting Yuuri to pull away slightly and look into his eyes. He smiled back._

“Triple loop, triple axel. Incredible! What a captivating performance as we move into the last choreographic sequence!”

He winced as he landed, feeling the ache starting up deep in his hip. It was fine. It was only a little longer, it would be fine.

He kicked off into a camel spin, grimacing as his hip protested at the wide movements. He clenched his jaw, dropping down into a sit spin and moving into his final pose, on one knee with one hand reaching out and the other covering his face.

The applause seeped down into his bones as he stood on shaking legs and smiled, breathing heavily. The ache pulsed through his leg and down to his knee. His head felt light as he skated a lap around the rink, waving and smiling and trying not to show it when his leg would pulse.

He just needed to ice it and rest. It would be fine in the morning. Everything would be fine.

He made it to the rink gate and stumbled slightly as he stepped out and took his skate guards from Yakov. The walk to the kiss and cry was fuzzy and his head was swimming. It felt good to sit, though, and he appreciated the relief while it lasted.

“You did well, Vitya, though we do need to address those mistakes once we return to Russia before the final,” Yakov told him. He nodded, somewhat numb as he looked over the rink and the stands.

“The score for Viktor Nikiforov, please,” a small voice said over the speakers. His fists tightened, heart thrumming. “The score for Viktor Nikiforov is 109.89. He is currently in first place.”

“Incredible, Viktor Nikiforov brought his best, ladies and gentlemen! I’m sure we’re all excited to see how his fiance, Yuuri Katsuki will respond! Our next skater will be Emil Nekola from the Czech Republic.”

Yakov gripped Viktor’s shoulder and led him to the group of reporters waiting for him. He smiled as the older man squeezed his shoulder reassuringly before allowing him to step closer and answer questions.

__

He was running late. The reporters had held him up much longer than he thought that they would, and he practically had to rip himself away from them as he raced back toward the rink.

As he stepped through the door, Yuuri was already on the ice, skating to the center of the rink. He settled beside Yakov, eyes locked on Yuuri as he moved his body to his starting position. Elegant and beautiful.

He reached down to rub at his leg, a sigh of relief passing through his lips at the fading pain.

“How was he?” he asked, eyes never leaving Yuuri.

“More composed than I expected. But his hands were still shaking,” Yakov responded, and Viktor nodded, leaning onto the boards as if trying to send his reassurances to him over the ice.

“Our last skater of the night will be Yuuri Katsuki of Japan,” the commentator said. “His program was choreographed by Viktor Nikiforov and his theme for this season is ‘fear and trust.’”

The music started and Viktor held his breath, watching the first fluid movements Yuuri made. Exhilaration rushed through him.

Yuuri could feel his body trembling as he moved, adrenaline slamming through his veins with each frantic beat of his heart.

He was finally skating on the same ice as Viktor. As equals. He was facing Viktor again and he wasn’t as afraid as he thought he would be. He was excited.

“He has a quad toeloop planned right off the bat.”

_“Let’s run through it one more time, Yuuri,” Viktor had said, smiling as he handed Yuuri his water bottle. Yuuri nodded, breathing heavily as he took a long drink. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and let Viktor take the bottle back._

_“Okay, what should I be working on?”_

_“You’re still thinking too much when you transition from the first to the second half and focusing more on landing jumps than on how you’re skating.”_

_“Right,” Yuuri said, trying to keep his mind blank as he started again._

“Perfect quad toeloop there.”

Yuuri let himself fall into the familiar movements of the step sequence, his mind wandering. He could tell that Viktor was keeping something from him, it wasn’t difficult to see when he spent every day with him.

He wanted to let Viktor tell him in his own time, didn’t want to push him. But it was getting more difficult the longer Viktor refused to come out and say whatever he was keeping to himself.

_“Viktor?” Yuuri called. It was early, far too early for either of them to be up, but the bed was cold. He rubbed at his eyes before slipping on his glasses and wandering out into the living room._

_Viktor sat at the bar top, absently rubbing his hand into his thigh and Yuuri’s blood ran cold for a moment. “Viktor, what’s going on?” It was the night before they were to leave for the NHK Trophy and everything in him seemed to throb in fear at the idea that Viktor was injured again._

_Viktor looked up, a glass of what may have been whiskey in his hand. He smiled tiredly, both hands moving up to hold the glass._

_“Sorry, Yuuri, I just couldn’t sleep. Go back to bed.”_

_Yuuri shook his head, striding forward and laying his hand on Viktor’s hip._

_“Why were you...does it hurt again?”_

_“I’m fine, Yuuri.”_

_“That’s not what I asked, Viktor.”_

_In one fluid motion, Viktor stood from his stool, leaving his glass on the counter and turning to face Yuuri. He rested their foreheads together and reached down to lace their fingers._

_“I’m fine, Yuuri. Everything is fine, okay?” He squeezed Yuuri’s fingers as he spoke and Yuuri felt his shoulders beginning to loosen._

_“You’re sure?”_

_“Yes, солнышко.”_

“Triple flip, triple toe—oh no he fell, but I believe there were enough rotations.”

Yuuri shook his head as he stood back up and picked up with the music naturally. He could feel the mounting anxiety like an itch he couldn’t scratch under his skin at the back of his head. It made him breathless and restless as he pushed off into a quick camel spin.

He knew that Viktor had been pacing early in the morning for some reason, but tried not to think about it. He tried not to think of what could be bothering the other man so much that it would plague him so consistently for so long. His heart ached.

“Quadruple salchow, single loop, triple—another fall on the triple toeloop. But I believe this one also had enough rotations.”

He was still thinking too much. Viktor would scold him, but he wasn’t sure he cared all that much, heart still racing. He suddenly felt like Viktor was slipping through his fingers, like he was going to lose him. It was ridiculous, of course, Viktor was standing next to Yakov, watching him like always. But despite that knowledge, his legs felt weak.

He focused the aching, burning feeling into his skating, trying to put all of his emotions into the final step sequence. “What an emotional performance. And finally, a combination spin.”

He dropped down into a sit spin before grabbing his foot and lifting himself up into a Y spin, keeping his form as clean as possible to attempt to make up for his two falls. Finally, he released his skate and finished with a standard two foot spin.

He gasped in his final pose, trying to take in the icy air of the rink and regain feeling in his body as he looked to Viktor at the rink gate.

Just seeing him there sent warm relief through him, pooling in his gut as he skated forward, desperately, throwing himself forward into Viktor’s waiting arms and holding as tight as possible.

Viktor braced his left leg behind him as he caught Yuuri, trying not to let the slight twinge on his face show as his hip pinched at the new weight. His attention was drawn back to Yuuri as he felt his body trembling. Viktor held him tighter, spinning him around in a half circled before letting his skates touch the floor.

Before he could ask what was wrong, Yuuri pulled away and grabbed his cheeks, kissing his lips soundly. It only lasted a moment before Yuuri pushed his face back into Viktor’s neck and held him tightly.

“Your program was beautiful,” Yuuri said, lips tickling Viktor’s skin. He smiled.

“So was yours.”

Yuuri just shook his head and held Viktor tighter. He didn’t say anything else, so Viktor just let him hold on for another few moments. “Let’s go to the kiss and cry, моё золотце.”

He could see Yakov rolling his eyes at the nickname but just smiled to himself and watched Yuuri pull away from him slowly, flush high on his cheeks. Viktor handed him his skate guards and led him toward the kiss and cry.

“The score for Yuuri Katsuki, please,” the small voice said again. Viktor reached out to take Yuuri’s hand when he tensed up. “The score for Yuuri Katsuki is 99.65. He is currently in third place.”

Viktor clapped and turned to pull Yuuri into a tight side-hug.

“I’m so proud of you, I know you can do this.”

Yuuri nodded into his shoulder, holding his arms tightly.

“Yuuri Katsuki managed to nab third place. Emil Nekola is in second and Viktor Nikiforov is still in first. Tomorrow we have the men’s free skate competition, which will decide who goes on to the Grand Prix Final in Marseille, France in December.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAH!! First I just want to thank everyone for all your support??? like wow??? All your lovely comments and kudos and just. presence. is so amazing and I'm so so glad that you've enjoyed this story so far!! You're all just so sweet I cry it means the world to me wow!!!!!!! T^T
> 
> BUT IN OTHER NEWS. HERE IT IS. I'm sorry it's kind of late T^T I was really struggling with this one because I have a lot planned after it, but I wanted a good lead-in to everything?? If that makes sense??? But I think this turned out okay?? I hope so;;; ANYWAY. I feel like I'm really laying Viktor's leg thing on thick, so if you have any guesses as to what it could be totally tell me in a comment! I'm really interested to see if there are any theories going around..
> 
> But yes, so next chapter will be really long, which is partially why this one is so short. A lot to cover next chapter, so expect a rIDE. Next chapter will also reveal what's up with Viktor, which is also why I wanna know what people think it is now bc I just love hearing opinions;;;;;; 
> 
> I started school on Tuesday and I'll have kind of a lot going on, but I'm still dedicating myself to updating this on Fridays, so I will definitely let you guys know if that is subject to change at all!! For now, this should be okay! 
> 
> But yes, so once again I'm not a figure skating expert, so please point out any inaccuracies in the routines if they're there I really appreciate it!! (shoutout to clairecotta for helping me out with jump rules last chapter that was so crazy helpful thank you!!!!!) I'm also not a Russian or Japanese expert, so my ability to research is limited, though I really did try! If there are any inaccuracies there also feel free to let me know! 
> 
> Моя любовь - my love  
> солнышко - sunshine/my sunshine  
> моё золотце - my gold  
> Я тебя люблю - I love you  
> 愛してるよ - I love you 
> 
> But yes! I believe that's it.. you can come talk to me on my tumblr if you want!! [here](https://the-katuki-niliforv.tumblr.com/) !! I'm working on being more active so forgive me if it takes a bit ^.^;;;; 
> 
> If you have a minute and something to say please leave a comment and let me know how I'm doing, they just brighten my day! (and I promise I'm in the process of replying to the ones from last chapter too!! ;;;; ) I hope you all have a great night/weekend. Stay safe, everyone! 
> 
> (EDIT: OH WHOA IT ACTUALLY WORKED THAT TIME AO3 DID IT RIGHT. that probably won't last but cool!)
> 
> ~JD


	5. Grand Prix Catastrophe! Yuuri versus Viktor: Blowout at NHK Trophy Free Skate!!

“Yuuri,” Viktor called as he stepped out of the bathroom and scrubbed at his hair with a small towel, Yuuri seemed to jump slightly as he looked up from his phone and turned to look Viktor over, “how are you feeling about your free skate tomorrow?”

Yuuri turned away again, gripping his phone tighter in his hands. His shoulders trembled for a moment before he took a deep breath and let his hands fall into his lap.

“I don’t…” he shrugged as he trailed off. Viktor made his way toward the bed and sat beside him, leaning his shoulder against Yuuri’s, waiting silently as he gathered his thoughts.

Yuuri smiled, pressing back into Viktor’s touch softly. “I think I can do it. I want to do my best and skate on the same ice as you. As equals. I want to show everyone that I can do even more than last year.”

“I know that you will,” Viktor agreed, leaning down to nuzzle his nose into Yuuri’s neck, smiling as Yuuri laughed and twisted his body to get away from him. Viktor reached around him, locking his arms around Yuuri’s waist and pressing kisses up Yuuri’s neck and along his jaw. Yuuri laughed louder, holding onto Viktor’s arms.

“Viktor, that tickles!”

“Hmm, how about this, then,” Viktor said, leaning over more and pressing a deep kiss to Yuuri’s plush, warm lips. Yuuri hummed in response, kissing back with fervor. Viktor leaned in further, twisting and wincing slightly. Yuuri pulled away with wide eyes and Viktor quickly tried to come up with something to do damage control before Yuuri’s thoughts spiraled out of control.

“Viktor?” he asked, his voice so small it tugged at Viktor’s heart.

“Just sore, Yuuri,” he said quickly, his smile probably more frantic than reassuring, “I fell during practice with Yakov yesterday and I’m still a bit sore, don’t worry about it.” In reality, it had been more of a stumble and he didn’t even land very hard on the ice, but it wasn’t a _lie_ , either.

Yuuri searched his eyes and deep down Viktor knew that he didn’t really believe him, at least not completely. Instead of calling Viktor out, Yuuri just stood and walked closer to his bag. He knelt down and picked up an innocent-looking white bottle. He tossed it to Viktor and bit at his lip as he stood again.

“It’s Ibuprofen,” he said softly. Viktor nodded, looking down at the bottle and smiling softly. He wasn’t sure if it would actually help with his pain, but it never hurt to try. He took two tablets with a glass of water before smiling up at Yuuri as he moved to stand in front of him.

“Thank you, Yuuri,” he murmured, reaching out to pull Yuuri closer until he was standing between his legs looking contemplative.

“Are you really okay, Viktor?” he asked. “You’re not doing something reckless are you?”

“I’m fine, солнышко,” he said, leaning up into Yuuri’s hand as he reached down to move his damp hair out of his face. Yuuri still looked worried and Viktor wanted desperately to make him feel better, to reassure him. That said, he didn’t think that telling Yuuri that the pain wasn’t constant, and tended to fade away for a while would make him feel any better.

“If you’re sure,” Yuuri whispered, eyes searching his face desperately. Viktor squeezed his arms around Yuuri’s middle, smiling and leaning up to press a soft kiss to Yuuri’s lips instead of really answering.

As they went about their quiet night together, Viktor realized that his hip really did feel much better. He couldn’t tell for sure if it was medicine or just the pain fading like it always did after a while, but he was grateful.

They ended up going to bed early that night, both occupying themselves with their phones until they were tired enough to sleep.

Viktor turned over to cuddle against Yuuri’s chest, phone still held in his hand as he scrolled through his various social media accounts to make sure he didn’t miss anything. Yuuri’s heart beat slowly under his ear as he reached his free arm out to wrap around his fiance’s wait. Yuuri’s arm dropped around his shoulders as he read through an article speculating who would go on to the final. His free hand traced circles into Viktor’s skin with a featherlight touch and Viktor sunk further into his side, relaxed and happy. All thoughts of leg pain were pushed to the furthest reaches of his mind as he just enjoyed Yuuri’s warmth and comfort.

Viktor tapped his screen to like the most recent picture of Chris and his cat and Yuuri stretched, yawning. Yuuri set his phone down and leaned down to press a soft kiss to Viktor’s hair. Viktor’s heart stuttered as he smiled up at Yuuri whose shaggy hair was falling over his eyes as he looked down at Viktor with bright, adoring eyes.

“愛してるよ, Viktor,” he whispered, tilting his head to give Viktor a soft, gorgeous smile. “Let’s do our best tomorrow.” Viktor could just nod as he tried to make himself respond. He leaned forward and kissed Yuuri’s lips, soft and chaste before pulling away just enough to whisper his response.

“Я буду всегда любить тебя, моё золотце.”

__

Viktor awoke to a dull, constant ache deep in his hip, and all at once his heart and body seemed to freeze up. The stiffness was normal, but the ache was unexpected and it was all he could do to keep himself together enough to stand from the bed and start trying to at least work out the stiffness.

His mind was racing, trying to figure out why it was worse now. What could he have done to make it worse than it had been for weeks? He had skated his routine numerous time and it never made his leg feel like that, so what was different?

No, he would be fine. The pain would probably fade soon, he just had to wait it out. He just had to make it through the final. After the final, everything would be fine. It had to be.

Yuuri stirred in the bed beside him, drawing Viktor’s attention down as his heart pounded. He took a steadying breath before sitting at the edge of the bed and ran a hand through Yuuri’s hair soothingly.

“Nnh? Viktor?” Yuuri asked, peeking his eyes open and squinting up at Viktor. He pushed up into the hand carding through his hair and Viktor just smiled, secretly thankful that Yuuri’s vision was so bad he wouldn’t be able to see how frazzled Viktor likely looked without his glasses.

“Good morning, солнышко.”

“Why are you out of bed?” Yuuri slurred, pushing himself up onto his elbows and looking Viktor over blearily. “I thought you liked to sleep in before competitions.”

“Maybe I’m a bit excited to compete against you,” he said. It was true, he was thrilled to be able to face Yuuri as a competitor in addition to being his coach, but it still left a bad taste in his mouth to keep giving Yuuri half-truths and evading difficult topics with a kiss or a joke. Yuuri just smiled, eyes drooping closed again as he leaned up to peck Viktor’s lips and wrap his arms around his shoulders.

“You slept alright, though?”

“Yes, Yuuri, I slept just fine.” Viktor hugged him back, maybe a touch too tightly, but Yuuri didn’t say anything about it if he had.

“I’ll make up for falling yesterday,” Yuuri said seriously into Viktor’s shoulder. “I’ll make sure my performance is perfect. So make sure you give me everything you have, okay?”

“Of course.”

__

His hip still hurt. It was nearly time for the free skate to start and he was starting to get frustrated. A dull ache pulsed down his thigh to his knee and his heart was pounding.

Yuuri stood beside him, buzzing with what looked to be a cross between excitement and fear. Nothing too unexpected, really. He fiddled with his phone as he looked around. Viktor could tell he would probably start walking around again soon, or warm up a bit more.

His phone buzzed and they both looked down at the screen.

**19:16 New Text from: Yurio**

_ <It started sleeting really badly so we’re going to be late, but don't you dare kick the geezer’s ass until I'm there to see it, pork cutlet bowl!!> _

It had been sunny when they left the hotel. Did the weather report even predict precipitation? Viktor tried to remember, subtly massaging the light ache from his thigh.

“He really wants me to beat you,” Yuuri laughed, reaching out to tangle his fingers with Viktor’s. “Even though we both know it's a little ridiculous.”

Viktor frowned, glancing to Yuuri and looking over the side of his face.

“What do you mean by _that_?” he asked.

Yuuri looked over to him with a tilted head.

“What are you talking about?I made you a program that's just as good as my own. Of course you could win with it. Against me or anyone else.”

Yuuri opened his mouth to protest when Viktor detached their hands and reached up to hold Yuuri’s face. “You’re an incredible skater, солнышко.”

Yuuri looked a little queasy as he averted his eyes, trying not to meet Viktor’s intent gaze.

“Well, sure, but you're—” he cut himself off as he met Viktor’s eyes for a fleeting moment, biting his lip. “Okay.”

“I know that you're worried because of your short program yesterday, but listen to me, okay?” Yuuri nodded. “This morning we agreed to give it everything we had, so there's no reason that you couldn't beat me. I already believe in you, Yuuri. And so does Yurio. So just give me everything you have, and I'll do the same.”

“Right,” Yuuri said, finally meeting Viktor’s eyes again and nodding. His smile was serious and sure and Viktor leaned in to kiss him. Yuuri responded softly, both of them trying not to laugh and break the kiss. Viktor hadn’t even realized that his pain had faded to a dull, bearable ache.

__

“Oi, pork cutlet bowl, there you are!” Yuri shouted, glaring between Yuuri and Viktor as he dragged Otabek along behind him as he approached. “Were you two making out in a closet or something?”

Otabek glanced toward Yuri with a fond, vaguely exasperated smile before looking up to Viktor and Yuuri with a short nod of acknowledgement. Yuuri hadn’t noticed the quick nod as his eyes locked on Yuri, his entire face flushing a deep red while he sputtered out something which might have been intended to be English, but Viktor was hard-pressed to say for sure.

Finally, Yuuri dropped his face into his hands and groaned. Viktor smiled, throwing a comforting arm around Yuuri’s shoulders and pulling him close to his side.

“Why make out in a closet when we have a very comfortable hotel room with a bed,” Viktor responded, making Yuri scoff. Yuuri just groaned louder, dragging his hands down his face as he did. Otabek shot them a thumbs up and Viktor couldn’t hold in the smile in return. Yuri rolled his eyes before looking at Yuuri again.

“You’d better be ready,” he said seriously. Most of Yuuri’s flush had faded before he nodded. It was clear that there was still something he wasn’t saying, but Viktor was the last person who had any right to say anything about it. “Watch out, old man. If you’re not careful, pork cutlet bowl is gonna take your title from you before you know what hit you.”

Viktor could feel the extra weight in Yuri’s words as he turned a sharp glare on him. He just smiled, arm tightening around Yuuri’s shoulders.

“It’ll be a fun challenge, getting to skate against him. Maybe I’ll be able to take back my record someday, too.” He leaned down to meet Yuuri’s eyes and grin, drawing a laugh from him.

“Ugh, this is what I mean,” Yuri said, turning to look up to Otabek with a grimace and flippant hand waved in their direction. “They’re _always_ like this.”

Otabek nodded, meeting Yuri’s eyes seriously as did.

“Yes, they’re very sweet.”

Yuri groaned, grabbing Otabek’s hand and dragging him toward the stands.

“That’s not what I meant,” he said as they went. Otabek tilted his head to the side as Yuri made no effort to explain further. Otabek turned to give a short wave to Yuuri and Viktor before turning back and allowing Yuri to drag him along.

__

“Okay, Yuuri, I’ll be watching you the whole time,” Viktor said as he held Yuuri’s forearms over the boards, smiling brightly. Yuuri nodded, feeling surprisingly calm as he smiled and met Viktor’s eyes.

Yuuri moved his arms so that he could link their fingers, pressing their foreheads together and taking a slow, calming breath.

“I’ll show everyone my best skating yet.”

“I know you will,” Viktor whispered, seemingly unable to look away from Yuuri’s intent gaze. The next moment, Yuuri was pulling away, leaving Viktor with a slight shiver at the loss of warmth.

“Our next skater on the ice is Yuuri Katsuki of Japan, who is in third place after the short program last night. He is skating a program choreographed by his coach, Viktor Nikiforov.”

The crowd roared and Yuuri smiled, shoulders relaxed as he skated around the rink to mentally prepare. It wasn’t like when he cried before his free skate at the Cup of China the previous year, but he could still feel the calmness seeping deep in his bones.

He needed to trust that Viktor would tell him what was wrong whenever he was ready. He needed to show him his absolute best. Prove that everything Viktor taught him wasn’t going to waste.

It would be fine.

He skated to the center of the rink and got into his starting position with a soft sigh. “He has four quads planned in this program, and an intense step sequence.”

The music started and Yuuri moved on instinct. The cool air of the rink bit at his skin just enough so he could maintain a calm air about him. He pushed off into a camel spin, locking his hands behind his back and then dropped down into a sit spin.

He stood to the sound of deafening applause, gaining speed as he skated around the rink. He turned around on the ice and kicked off.

“Gorgeous quad toe-loop right at the start!”

He felt lighter as his skates sliced through the ice, twisting and turning his body as the music flooded the rink. He had to show Viktor that he could perform a perfect free skate again. He was a better skater than before they met, he was more confident. Deep down, he knew that Viktor already fully believed that, but the ceaseless doubt at the back of his mind needed to be convinced. He had to prove it.

“Captivating step sequence,” the commentator said as Yuuri neared the start of the second half of his program. “Next he has planned a jump combination starting with a quadruple salchow.”

Yuuri took a deep breath as he swung his foot to take off. “Quadruple salchow, single loop, triple toe-loop. Excellent!”

The music was consuming him and he almost couldn’t hear anything over it at all, body moving so easily. “And here comes another quad salchow—another gorgeous jump from Katsuki. It’s clear that he’s coming for gold tonight.”

His body was tingling, a smile on his lips as he made another round of the rink. “And now a triple-triple combination. Triple axel, triple loop. Very clean. And he’ll get extra points for the difficult entry.”

He was so close. He could feel the anxiety slowly creeping back, thoughts of Viktor lying and hiding something flooding his thoughts as he moved into a final step sequence. He forced his body forward, fueling his movements with his desire to prove himself, to show without a shadow of a doubt that the time he spent with Viktor had permanently changed him as a skater, determination pushing him forward. He was going to give this program everything he had. He was going to put every emotion he felt on the ice, laid bare to the world.

His thoughts were swimming and his mind was foggy as he set himself up for his last jump, focusing on the desperation roiling in the pit of his stomach as he clenched his teeth.

“And finally, he has planned a quadruple flip.”

Yuuri kicked off, gliding through the air. “He’s done it! Incredible! All of his jumps were successful, and once again Yuuri Katsuki has completed a free program ending in a quad flip!”

Yuuri found himself in his final pose with a start, looking up at the ceiling and breathing heavily. He looked around, relief crashing down onto his shoulders at the booming cheers erupting throughout the crowd.

He wouldn’t have been able to stop the tears that collected along his eyelashes if he had wanted to. His eyes searched frantically for Viktor a moment later, seeing him at the rink gate with a wide, proud smile. “I’m sure we’re all excited to see how Viktor Nikiforov will respond as his competitor to such a captivating performance.”

Yuuri blocked out the noise as he skated forward, desperate to reach Viktor. He needed to feel his touch, to reassuring himself that he was there, that he was fine. The moment that Viktor’s arms wrapped around his back, Yuuri could feel the tears drip down his cheeks.

Viktor didn’t say anything, just held him tightly for a long moment. When he pulled away, he framed Yuuri’s face with his hands and looked him over, thumbs rubbing at the apples of his cheeks. Then he laughed, tugging Yuuri in and bumping their foreheads. The cold tip of his nose brushed against Yuuri’s heated cheeks as he leaned forward to connect their lips in a short, soft kiss.

“Ты такой красивый,” he whispered against Yuuri’s lips. Yuuri couldn’t help but laugh against him, holding Viktor tighter and never wanting to let go. Viktor ended up pulling away first, holding up Yuuri’s skate guards and setting them in his hands as he stepped back.

He draped Yuuri’s warm-up jacket over his shoulders once he stood back up and Yuuri just smiled at him. He could feel his smile straining as they neared the Kiss and Cry, body jittery and stiff. Was his performance good enough? Would Viktor still be happy once his score was announced? He shook his head, that was a silly thought. Viktor was already happy with him, it wouldn’t just change after his score was calculated.

Despite his own reassurances, Yuuri couldn’t keep his leg from shaking and staring out toward the scoreboard. Viktor was smiling beside him, looking beyond excited.

“The score for Yuuri Katsuki, please,” came through the speakers and Yuuri’s heart leapt in his chest. “The score for Yuuri Katsuki is 215.57, his total score is 315.22. He is currently in first place.”

“Incredible! Yuuri Katsuki takes the top spot by over eleven points! But we still have two more skaters tonight, fighting for a spot in the Grand Prix Final!”

Viktor’s arms were wrapped around him then, squeezing him tight, and jolting him out of his shocked stupor. Viktor’s nose nuzzled at his temple and Yuuri smiled, squeezing at Viktor’s right hand and running his thumb along the gold band adorning his ring finger.

“Damn,” a voice said to their left. Yuuri looking up to see Emil smiling at them confidently. “I’m going to have to go all out to catch up to you,” he said. Yuuri pulled away from Viktor to stand, intending to leave the Kiss and Cry and finish his interviews as quickly as possible. He shot a thumbs up to Emil with a bright smile.

“Good luck,” he said, watching Emil nod and grin as he stepped onto the ice. Yuuri made a mental note to look up a video of Emil’s performance later on, excited to see how he performed.

As he made his way toward the gaggle of reporters, Viktor’s arms wrapped around his chest from behind, hooking his chin over Yuuri’s shoulder.

“Go finish your interviews, I need to get ready.”

“I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

Viktor nodded, pressing a quick kiss to Yuuri’s cheek before stepping back and making his way down the hallway where Yakov waited for him. Yuuri glanced up to the reporters with a nervous smile.

“Mr. Katsuki, has competing against Mr. Nikiforov put any kind of strain on your personal relationship?”

“No, we’re both very supportive of each other and we want each other to do well.”

They were the usual types of questions, nothing unexpected. He could hear the crowd cheering at the end of Emil’s performance and felt his heart start to race. He needed to end the interview as quickly as possible if he was going to be able to see Viktor skate.

It took longer than he wanted it to, but eventually the reporters allowed him to step away. He raced to the doors, hearing the crowd already cheering. Viktor was already skating, he needed to hurry.

He barrelled through the door as the commentator’s voice rang out over the speakers.

“And now a quad-triple combination, starting with his signature move, a quad flip. Ama—wait, he fell!”

__

Viktor’s hands were trembling at his side as Yakov patted his shoulder and Emil’s scores were calculated. Yuuri had been so amazing, and all Viktor wanted to do was show him his best in return. His hip still ached, and his heart slammed against his ribcage as he thought.

He just needed to make it to the Final. Once it was over he would rest and get his leg looked at. It would be fine, it was only a couple more weeks. He could make it just a couple more weeks. He needed to.

“Do your best, Vitya,” Yakov said, drawing Viktor’s attention back to the rink, the chilly air seeping through the thin fabric of his costume. Viktor gave a stiff nod as he stepped onto the ice. Yakov patted his arm before he skated around the rink, slipping a fake smile onto his lips.

“And welcome our last skater of the night, Viktor Nikiforov, who is in first place after the short program last night. I know we’re all anticipating his response to Yuuri Katsuki’s program earlier this evening.”

Viktor’s chest clenched again, finding his way to the center of the ice. His body still moved elegantly as he shifted into his starting position, waiting for his music to start and doing everything in his power to ignore the soft pulsing in his hip. It would be fine, it was always fine.

Once his music started, he felt his shoulders begin to relax. It was going fine, he would be alright. It was only another four minutes.

He turned and pushed off the ice.

“His first planned jump is a quad toe-loop, here it comes. And nice height on that, we wouldn’t expect anything less.”

Everything was alright, just like it always was. Viktor glided along the ice, feeling calmer after landing the toe-loop. He was fine.

“Triple axel, triple lutz. Looks like a slight over-rotation.”

Viktor’s body moved on instinct for a moment as his vision flashed. Pain shot through his hip and down his leg as he landed the triple lutz. He pushed off into a camel spin and then down into a sit spin.

As he rose from his seated position, he grimaced again, pain still flaring through his hip. He clenched his jaw as he moved into position for his next jump. It would be fine. He would be fine.

“And now a quad-triple combination, starting with his signature move, a quad flip.”

Viktor dug his toe-pick into the ice and pushed off, spinning through the air. It was going well until he missed his landing, pain shooting up his leg again and sending him crashing into the ice.

_“Vitya, what are you doing?” Yakov had shouted. It was the first time he had fallen on his routine in months and he sat on the ice, hair falling into his face. Confusion twisted his features as he looked up to his coach. “Get up, we’ll try it again.”_

_Viktor’s body felt heavy as he tried to push himself back up, thoughts swimming._

_“Yakov, I…” he trailed off, throat clicking as he swallowed thickly, trying to find words. He had been doing his routine well up until then, what had happened?_

_“It’s just a fall, Vitya,” Yakov said, thinly veiling his exasperation. “It’s going to happen once in awhile, but you need to learn to just get up and keep skating.”_

_“But what if it happens at the Final? I have to be perfect!” Viktor argued, pushing his long hair out of his eyes. Yakov rubbed a hand down his face with a sigh._

_“You’re bound to fall sometimes, Vitya, it’s not the end of the world. You just need to keep skating. Let’s run it again.”_

It took Viktor a moment to realize that he still needed to push himself up and finish his program.

“He fell on the flip and wasn’t able to complete his second jump, however there appeared to be enough rotations on that quad.”

His body was shaking, legs trembling beneath him. He needed to make up for that. He needed to add that triple toe-loop in again somewhere. Maybe before his last step sequence. It would be fine, he just needed to breathe. It was fine.

His leg was throbbing beneath him, pain radiating deep in his hip and pulsing down to his knee again. His head was spinning as he set up for his next jump, wobbling on the landing. His leg was getting harder to move, stiffness building deep in his hip.

“It looks like his planned quad salchow was reduced to a triple.”

_“What the hell are you doing to yourself?” Yuri had asked him the previous night when Yuuri was still being interviewed. He had caught Viktor grimacing and trying to soothe the ache in his hip and stomped over to corner him at the end of an empty hall._

_“It’s nothing, I can handle it.”_

_“You’re going to wreck your career by being reckless, you idiot!”_

_“I’ve already had my career, it’s almost over anyway.”_

_“You don’t believe that. And anyway, do you really want to be_ forced _into retirement, old man?” Yuri pushed himself into Viktor’s space, challenging him. Viktor smiled, turning his eyes away as he shrugged._

_“I’ll be fine, it’s not that bad anyway. The pain always goes away after a while, I doubt it’s all that serious. It’s just flaring up because I’ve been practicing so much.”_

_“That’s not an excuse. Stop dodging my questions, geezer!”_

_“I just need to give it my all a little bit longer. I want to motivate Yuuri as much as I can. If I step down again after half a season, due to an injury no less, I’m afraid of what it will do to him. He encouraged me to come back, so I don’t want him to blame himself either.”_

_“You’re not doing him any favors by aggravating an injury, Viktor. He’s going to be worse off the longer you keep this from him.”_

_“I’ll tell him soon.”_

_Yuri stepped closer, pushing his finger into Viktor’s chest and glaring up at him with the kind of ferocity that only an angry sixteen-year-old could muster._

_“You’d better mean that, old man. If you don’t tell him by the Final, I’ll tell him myself.”_

_Viktor tried to come up with a response as he met Yuri’s glare. “The reason the pork cutlet bowl messed up today is because he’s worried about your dumb ass. You don’t hide this as well as you think you do.”_

_With that, Yuri turned on his heel and stalked away down the hallway. Viktor frowned as he thought. He was being so careful, wasn’t he?_

“And now he’s planned his final quad in a combination.”

He needed to give Yuuri his best. This wasn’t his best, how was he supposed to make up for that? His program was almost over, what was he supposed to do? His body moved into position on it’s own as he kicked off the ice. “Quadruple toe-loop, triple toe-loop, triple sal—Ah, he fell again. The triple appeared to have enough rotations, though.”

His form was sloppy, his legs were shaking. What was he even doing? Would Yuuri be disappointed? How was he supposed to make up for his mistakes? What was he supposed to _do_?

Viktor was acutely aware of the gold ring on his finger as he moved into his final combination spin. His legs were still shaking as he settled into his final pose, kneeling and bending backwards, right hand extended to the side.

He could barely hold his position for a few moments before he fell back against the ice massaging his thigh and just hoping the throbbing would stop. He could hear shouting as he came back to himself a few long moments later, blearily lifting himself up and getting back onto weak legs. If he stayed down any longer they might call out a medic, which was the last thing he wanted. Not yet. He still hadn’t shown Yuuri his best. He still hadn’t given back the kind of passion that Yuuri showed him in his free skate. He just needed a little longer.

He had to do so much better. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to face Yuuri until he did. He needed to show him that he was fine, that he could still skate. Anger at his lacking performance began bubbling up in stomach as his hands tightened into fists against his thighs.

He skated forward slowly, body feeling leaden with every inch he drew closer to the rink gate. The ring on his finger felt like it was made of solid granite, weighing on his finger as if it would drag him to the ground at any moment.

__

Yuuri watched as Viktor stepped off the ice, Yakov handing him his skate guards. He slipped them on mechanically and Yuuri’s heart raced as he moved forward to take Viktor’s face in a gentle hold.

“Viktor, are you okay?” he asked. Viktor shrugged off his hands, turning away with a curt nod.

“I’m fine, Yuuri.”

Yuuri stepped back, his heart clenching in his chest at Viktor’s response. Had he done something wrong? As soon as he saw Viktor on the ice when he first entered the rink again, he could feel that something was off.

Viktor’s movements were stiff and uncoordinated throughout his program and Yuuri had to hold himself back from running onto the ice once the music stopped. To top off his stress, seeing Viktor practically collapse from his final pose sent his mind into a whirlwind of worst-case scenarios. He was shouting over the boards before he could stop himself, feeling Yakov pulling him back and trying to calm him. It hadn’t really worked.

To make things even worse, Viktor wouldn’t look at him, a sour look tainting his sharp features as Yakov pushed him toward the Kiss and Cry.

His body hurt as he watched the way Viktor’s fists clenched in his lap, his knuckles blanching. His jaw was visibly clenched and Yuuri wanted desperately to calm him, to reach out and find out what was wrong.

But Viktor pulled away from his touch again as soon as his score was announced. He had come in fourth. _Viktor Nikiforov_ had come in fourth. Yuuri’s heart was pounding and his stomach was queasy as he tried to wrap his mind around it.

Was it because of whatever Viktor had been hiding from him? Should he have pressed for answers more? Should he not have let Viktor evade his questions? Was it his fault?

“Oi, pork cutlet bowl!” Yuri shouted into his ear, drawing a choked shout from his throat as he turned to his side and found the teenager standing right next to him. Otabek looked on with a small frown, not saying anything. “Where’s the old man? The medal ceremony will be starting soon.”

“I...I don’t know,” Yuuri whispered, shrugging helplessly and feeling anxiety licking at his mind like a crudely contained fire. “He wouldn’t look at me after they announced his score and just...walked away.”

Yuri spat something in Russian, turning to Otabek to say something slightly less harsh before stalking away. Otabek stayed behind and shot a thumbs up in Yuuri’s direction.

“He’s going to find Viktor and bring him back. For now focus on getting ready,” he said. Yuuri nodded, his mind foggy as he scratched at his arm, looking around the rink, trying to find a head of silver hair he knew was absent. A hand reached out to hold his arm, stopping his movements. He blinked up at Otabek who looked at him seriously. “It will be okay,” he said.

A tiny wave of comfort washed over him at Otabek’s calm expression and he nodded.

__

Viktor sat in an empty dressing room, back against the wall and his left knee pulled up to his chest. His right leg was extended in front of him and he tried to keep his breathing in check. The pain would stop soon. It would be fine. He would figure something out, it would be better for the Final. It would be okay. He would be okay. Just a few minutes, he just needed a few minutes.

The door slammed open and Viktor’s heart leapt into his throat as he tried to push himself up and compose his features before whoever it was could see him. He was halfway to scrambling to his feet when his hip protested and he collapsed onto the ground again.

Yuri slammed the door shut behind himself and stalked toward Viktor. He was seething and Viktor wanted to laugh as he dropped his head back and covered his eyes.

“Yurio, sorry,” he said. “Just give me a minute.”

“What the hell is your problem?” Yuri shouted, ignoring Viktor’s words and stomping closer, towering above him.

“I don’t know,” Viktor responded, hand still over his eyes. Yuri clicked his tongue, nudging Viktor’s right leg with his foot.

“I don’t mean your bum leg, moron,” he spat.

“It’s not—!”

“I mean why aren’t you with the pork cutlet bowl. Yeah, you had a shit program, but you’re his coach and you’re supposed to be with him when he wins something.”

“I can’t—he’s—!”

“He’s _what_ ? If you’re going to say something stupid like that he’s going to be disappointed in you then don’t even bother. The only thing he _is_ right now, is worried. And it’s _your_ fault.”

“I _know_ that! But—!”

Yuri snarled a few choice expletives in Viktor’s face, leaning down to get into his space and rip his hand away from his eyes. “Just stay out of it!” Viktor shot back, the grip on his hip tightening as he tried to keep himself together. He knew that Yuuri was worried, but he couldn’t keep himself composed in that moment, he knew he couldn’t. He just needed another minute. The pain would fade if he just gave it a minute.

He leaned his head back against the wall, both hands coming up to cover his face. “It’ll be fine, I just need a minute.”

“Can you at least get up? You can compose yourself on the way back to the rink.”

Viktor shook his head slowly, fingers clasping together and twisting his ring to calm himself down.

“I don’t think so.”

“Shit, does it really hurt that bad?” Yuri asked, standing straight and taking a quick step back. Viktor’s shoulders hunched as he stayed silent for a few seconds to gather his thoughts. Eventually, he let out a slow breath.

“I just need a minute.”

“Viktor, how much pain are you even in?”

“It’s fine, just give me a minute, I’m fine.”

“God, you really are an idiot,” Yuri whispered, eyes roving over Viktor worriedly.

__

Yuuri didn’t see Viktor again until after the medal ceremony, Yakov was shouting at him for sloughing off his coaching duties. Yuri stood at Viktor’s side looking petulant, but being shockingly gentle as he pushed Viktor toward Yuuri and Otabek.

Viktor was frowning, looking away from Yuuri and staying at least a foot away from him at all times. Yuuri’s stomach twisted, the gold medal around his neck felt hot and suffocating as he looked at the side of Viktor’s face.

“Otabek and I are going out. You two should go back to the hotel, you look tired,” Yuri said, grabbing Otabek’s arm and pulling him away from the rink without another word.

“Let’s go, Yuuri,” Viktor said, tilting his head toward the door and walking away without waiting for Yuuri to respond. Yuuri followed him, feet heavy beneath him. They gathered their belongings and changed into street shoes. Yuuri noted that Viktor was still wearing his skates despite having been gone for over an hour. Where had he gone?

“Viktor, are you alright?” Yuuri asked, unable to hold it in as they exited the building. Viktor was silent for a long moment, so long that Yuuri thought he wouldn’t respond at all. Finally, he turned his head to the side and gave Yuuri a weak, brittle smile.

“Yes, Yuuri, I’m fine.”

Yuuri’s fingers curled tighter around his bag strap, watching Viktor’s face twist as he turned back around. Something like anger hollowed his features, making him seem even paler beneath the streetlights. He hadn’t used a pet name.

Somehow everything inside Yuuri felt wrong at the sound of his name from Viktor’s lips. Of course Viktor still said his name, but had also started using a myriad of nicknames that Yuuri had become accustomed to, even fond of. Ever since Viktor stepped off the ice, he had _only_ used Yuuri’s given name and it was making him anxious. More so than he already was, at least.

“You can talk to me about anything,” he said, reaching out to take Viktor’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “You know that, right?”

“I know, I’m fine,” Viktor said, pulling away from Yuuri’s hold and stuffing his free hand into his pocket. Yuuri’s chest tightened as he watched Viktor’s back walk away from him. Was he mad at Yuuri? Was that why he was so distant?

Yuuri shook his head, following after Viktor silently as they made their way back to their hotel. The walk was silent and Yuuri’s thoughts spiraled out of his control, as he stole glances at Viktor’s pinched expression. Viktor’s eyes never met his, focusing ahead. His jaw was set and Yuuri wanted to make it better.

They made it all the way back to their hotel room in complete silence, setting their bags down along the wall. Viktor stayed on the other side of the room as Yuuri looked over to his suit hanging by the closet.

“Will you be okay to go to the banquet tomorrow night?” he asked, running his fingers over the soft fabric. It was the suit Viktor had bought for him in Barcelona. The sound of something slamming against the dresser drew Yuuri’s attention behind him with a start. Viktor was visibly shaking, his phone held down between his hand and the top of the dresser.

“I told you that I’m fine, Yuuri!” he snapped, making Yuuri take a step back into the wall in shock. It only took a moment for Yuuri to compose himself again, agitation getting the better of him as he stepped forward.

“But you’re _not_ fine!” he argued. “You haven’t _been_ fine in weeks, Viktor! I can’t understand what’s going on if you don’t tell me!”

“There’s nothing going on, just leave it alone!”

Yuuri’s thoughts were already spiraling again, taking in the anger twisting Viktor’s features and his defensive stance. He was losing control of his own mind, insecurity and pain flooding his system. He spoke before he could stop himself, clenching his fists.

“Is losing to me really that terrible?”

Viktor froze, staring wide-eyed at Yuuri as his fist started to shake at his side. Yuuri’s eyes stung and his heart was hammering out of control and the room was spinning, but he continued. “Because you wouldn’t even come to the medal ceremony with me. Even if you didn’t score well, you’re still my coach, aren’t you? Is that going to be a problem in the future? If I win again?”

“What are you talking about?” Viktor whispered. “That’s not what this is about.”

“Then what is it about?” Yuuri asked, voice sharp and trying to make up for his trembling body. He could feel tears budding at the corners of his eyes but tried to hold them back as he met Viktor’s gaze.

“I have a handle on it.”

“No, you don’t!” Yuuri said. The tears were dripping down his cheeks already but he barely noticed, stepping closer to Viktor. “I just want you to stop hiding things from me! Just talk to me, Viktor!”

“I”m fine!”

“Stop saying that! Stop lying to me! Please, just tell me what’s going on! You’re scaring me! What did I do?”

“Блядь!” Viktor shouted, turning away from Yuuri and sitting in the edge of the bed, one hand cradling his forehead as he stared down at the carpet. He bit his lip when it started to wobble and Yuuri just stared. “You can’t do anything about it.”

“Does that really mean I shouldn’t know about it, either?” Yuuri whispered, inching closer to Viktor as his shoulders slumped and he gripped his wrist with his free hand, shaking and looking as if he were about to break apart at any moment.

“I broke our promise,” he said, voice barely there. “I said I would give you my best, but I _didn’t_. I’m not being fair to you as a competitor or as my student. I’m just angry with myself, there’s nothing you can do.”

“Viktor,” Yuuri whispered, unable to find anything else to say as he watched Viktor fight to keep himself together on the bed. He seemed to think for a long time, letting out a shaking breath as he squeezed his wrist and pressed his face further into the shield his hands created.

“The pain in my leg,” he whispered. “From a few weeks ago.”

Yuuri’s stomach churned uncomfortably as he nodded in acknowledgement.

“What about it?”

“It never...really went away.”

“What?”

Yuuri’s blood was already starting to boil.

“It comes and goes,” Viktor added, as if that made it any better. “If I rest, then it goes away completely, so I didn’t think it was...but then tonight, and I…” Viktor trailed off, shoulders hunching as he bit his lip harder.

“You—! Wh-what the _hell_ were you thinking?” Yuuri asked, voice steadily rising in volume as he stepped forward to hold Viktor’s shoulders, hands still gentle as gentle as possible as they shook him slightly. “Stupid, _stupid Viktor_! How could you do something so reckless?”

Yuuri was battling with feeling seething rage at how absolutely idiotic Viktor had been and concern over Viktor’s health.

“Прости, Yuuri,” Viktor said. “I just wanted to skate against you. I wanted to make you happy.”

“Putting yourself through all this pain won’t make me happy,” Yuuri said, hands fluttering over Viktor’s jaw, trying to draw his hands away from his face. “Does it still hurt now? Tell me what to do. Should I get Yakov?”

Yuuri leaned away, contemplating whether it would be easier to just call him or go out to find him in case his phone was out of reach. Viktor’s hand shot out to hold Yuuri’s arm, grip tight and desperate. Yuuri’s eyes darted to him immediately, heart still beating wildly.

“Пожалуйста, пожалуйста, не оставляй меня,” he whispered. Yuuri was about to voice his confusion when Viktor’s grip tightened slightly as he pulled on Yuuri’s arm. “I don’t want to be alone.”

Yuuri’s body drooped as he nodded, reaching for his phone and sitting on the bed beside Viktor before pulling him into his chest. Viktor gripped his jacket tight between his fingers, face pressed to Yuuri’s throat.

Yuuri ran one hand through his hair, pulling his phone up to his ear with the other after selecting Yakov’s contact.

“What is it?” he answered gruffly.

“Yakov, would you be able to meet us at our hotel room? We need to discuss something with you.”

__

Yakov had arrived a few minutes after Yuuri had ended their call, giving Viktor very little time to compose himself. He was still leaning against Yuuri when Yakov arrived and he tried to make himself presentable once Yuuri let him in, but the attempt was clearly futile.

Once the situation had been explained to Yakov, he gave Viktor an earful for being reckless and endangering himself needlessly.

Honestly, Viktor was just tired. He wanted to take as many pain relievers as he could get away with and slip into bed in order to forget everything that happened. He was angry and confused and exhausted.

That didn’t seem to matter to Yakov, who made him promise to see a doctor once they were in Hasetsu to find out what was causing the pain. He threatened to pull Viktor from the Final if he didn’t. Viktor nodded, trying not to direct his anger outward, since it wasn’t Yakov’s fault. It was his job to stop Viktor from doing potentially harmful things.

As he left, Viktor could see the slight twist of what looked like guilt in Yakov’s features, and it made his chest hurt.

His head was pounding. Yuuri laid a gentle hand on his shoulder, drawing him out of his own mind for a moment.

Yuuri helped him undress, fingers avoiding his hip at all costs. Viktor grimaced. He didn’t want Yuuri to treat him like he was already broken, or like he was fragile. It made his skin itch throughout the night as Yuuri helped him get ready for bed. Excessively gentle hands guided him through the process, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything about it.

His head ached again as Yuuri helped him slip under the covers, slipping in beside him and pulling Viktor close to his body.

“We’re going to have to talk about this soon,” Yuuri said into his hair. “I’m still mad that you’ve been keeping this from me.”

Viktor just nodded, not wanting to have the discussion anymore as he held onto Yuuri’s right hand in near-desperation, running his thumb over Yuuri’s ring. They didn’t say anything more as the night drew on and they both drifted to sleep, neither very restful.

__

Yuuri had enlisted the help of his mother to set up an appointment with a doctor for the same day they were to arrive. Viktor was impressed by the timing, but could feel his eyes drooping as he sat on the uncomfortable bed in the doctor’s office, waiting for her to return with an answer to the cause of his pain. It had been a good while and he could feel himself starting to nod off.

The door clicked and Viktor straightened his posture, looking up at the doctor as she re-entered the room. Her face was unreadable, which only sent a cold shock of dread down Viktor’s spine.

“We still need to wait for your blood tests to come back, but I’m fairly confident I have a diagnosis for you, Mr. Nikiforov,” she said. Viktor nodded, watching as she pulled up an image of his x-rays on the computer at the other end of the room. She turned the screen to him and Viktor frowned, unsure what he was looking at. “These are your hips,” she said.

Viktor nodded again, waiting to hear how bad the fracture likely was. “Notice this small gap between these bones in your left hip.” She grabbed a pen to illustrate her thoughts, indicating a small space in his hip. “Now, if you look at your right hip, the gap is much, much smaller,” she said. Viktor nodded slowly, trying to understand what gaps had to do with stress fractures and muscle strains. “Figure skating is a very hard sport on your body, and any number of injuries can occur during and well after your career. With a career as long as yours, it’s not surprising that we’re seeing this at your age.”

“I’m sorry,” Viktor finally said. “I’m not sure I understand what you’re saying. It’s...not a stress fracture? Or...or a muscle strain?”

“No,” she confirmed. “The pain that you’ve been experiencing is caused by what appears to be mild osteoarthritis, however it does appear to be progressing—”

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard the right word,” he said, interrupting her softly and shaking his head. “It’s caused by what?”

“Arthritis, Mr. Nikiforov. Specifically the type which occurs due to excessive wear and tear on joints. This can be caused by a previous injury, or even just by long-term participation in professional sports if the demand on your body is high enough. Twenty plus years of leaping through the air and landing on the same leg was likely the primary cause in your case. Small fractures and injuries over the course of a long skating career also probably sped up the process.”

“But...arthritis is something that you get when you’re old...isn’t it?”

“Not necessarily. There are plenty of young and athletic people who develop arthritis of some kind.”

“Wow, you’re...you’re not kidding,” he murmured, trying to smile and make light of the situation but feeling his bottom lip wobbling. This was actually happening, it wasn’t a dream. “That’s...quite a surprise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***SPOILER WARNING IF YOU READ THE NOTES FIRST, I DISCUSS THE BIG REVEAL IN THE FIRST PARAGRAPH***  
> Phewwwwww wow i’m nervous;;; but here we are!! All is revealed! (well sorta..) what do you guys think???? I hope it makes sense;;; and that you guys don’t hate it;;; I spent. a lot of time researching for this. Like. more than is probably necessary for a fanfic. I read I think 5 total academic papers and like 6 different medical websites listing symptoms, treatment and prognosis for osteoarthritis of the hip in younger and athletic individuals. T^T but if something is still wrong and you have more knowledge than me please please bestow it upon me, I want this to be as good as I can get it;;; (side note, the actual list of who all made the final will be in the next chapter)
> 
> In other news I have an editor now! Yay! My friend volunteered to help me out, so there should be fewer mistakes and the flow of the story should be spruced up a bit from now on as well!! I wanted this out earlier, but my dad’s been messing with the network for a few hours and I was finally able to get it up T^T
> 
> As per usual, I’m not a figure skating, Japanese, or Russian expert, but I am trying my best! If I still end up making a mistake, please let me know and I’ll fix it in a jiffy!!  
> Shoutout to eisains for pointing out that Yuuri probably can’t do a Biellmann spin based on the canon info available, earthtoarieo for helping me out with required jumps and jump limits in a short program, and EchizenRyomaLover for helping me with the contextually appropriate ‘I love you’ in Japanese!! 
> 
> I also just want to thank everyone for their lovely comments on the last chapter! You all make my heart so warm!! All the kudos and just acknowledgement is so lovely and I appreciate each and every one of you so, so much!!!! <3 
> 
> That should be about everything!! ~~The art included is by me, it’s just a quick sketchie Viktor but it fit with the timing and story so I wanted to include it;;; (will be added shortly)~~ nvm idk how to embed images, so you can see the art [here! (if you want..)](http://daiyanodumpster.tumblr.com/post/156465867837/i-did-a-quick-sketch-of-viktor-for-my-story-an)You can also come talk to me on my [tumblr](https://the-katuki-niliforv.tumblr.com/) if you want! I’m still working on being more active lol;;;  
>  Okok now i’m done rambling sorry;;; if you have a minute and something to say, please comment and let me know how I’m doing! All your comments just brighten my day T^T have a great weekend and be safe! 
> 
> солнышко - sunshine/my sunshine  
> 愛してるよ - I love you  
> Я буду всегда любить тебя - I will always love you  
> моё золотце - my gold  
> Ты такой красивый - You’re so beautiful  
> Блядь - Fuck! (at least that's what I was intending for this context??)  
> Прости - I’m sorry/Sorry  
> Пожалуйста, пожалуйста, не оставляй меня - Please, please don’t leave me
> 
> ~JD


	6. Overwhelmed and Anxious!! Two Weeks to the Final: The Fight to Stay on the Ice!!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning! This chapter contains a scene depicting a character having panic attack! If you'd like to avoid this for any reason at all but still want to read the chapter, the scene starts around ‘the line clicked’ and ends around ‘his body gave an almighty ache’
> 
> Please take care of yourselves <3

Yuuri slid over the ice in a slow, easy figure eight, trying to keep his mind off Viktor who was still at the doctor’s office. His chest ached no matter how much he tried to ignore it. He and Viktor still needed to talk about the way Viktor had hidden his pain for weeks. Giving Viktor enough time to gather his thoughts was making his shoulders feel tight. He shook them as he tried to dislodge the thought from his mind.

“Oi, pork cutlet bowl!” Yuri shouted at him, jolting him out of his distracted stupor. He looked over his shoulder at Yuri leaning on the boards beside Otabek. They had tagged along to Hasetsu to spend a few days at Yu-topia, though Yuri avidly denied being worried about Viktor, and claimed that he only wanted Otabek to have proper Katsudon. It was a weak argument, and they all knew it, though Yuuri opted not to say anything for the sake of self-preservation. 

Yuuri skated forward, stopped a few feet from the boards and met Yuri’s eyes. “You need to stop worrying about him so much, there’s nothing you can do about it right now, and doing all... _ this  _ to yourself is just hurting  _ you _ , dumbass.”

“It’s really not that simple,” Yuuri told him, looking down at the ice and fumbling with his fingers in a vain attempt to keep himself together. “I can’t just  _ not  _ worry about him.”

“Of course you can! What is worrying going to accomplish aside from making you upset?” 

“It’s not that easy to just turn my mind off, Yurio.”

Yuri huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and turning to face Otabek’s shoulder beside him, glaring so intensely that Yuuri almost feared for the safety of Otabek’s arm. 

“This is all that stupid geezer’s fault for hiding things,” Yuri grumbled instead of lashing out. Otabek almost looked proud. Almost. 

Yuuri let out a wheezy laugh as he nodded in agreement. 

“You’re right, but that doesn’t help me stop feeling anxious.” 

Yuri raised his hand as if to make a rebuttal when Yuuri’s phone started to ring on the bleachers beside his shoes. Otabek reached down to pick it up and hand it to Yuuri silently, nodding in what Yuuri assumed was something like solidarity. “Viktor?” he asked softly, cradling the phone to his ear as if it were something precious and delicate. 

“Hello, моё золотце.” 

Viktor’s voice was shaking. Yuuri’s grip on the cell phone tightened as he turned away from Yuri and Otabek, skating toward the other side of the rink.

“What...what did she say?” Yuuri asked, voice much stronger than he felt as his heart slammed against his ribcage so hard he thought it might break through. 

Viktor breathed out a long sigh, silence passing between them for a few long, painful minutes. Realistically, Yuuri knew that it couldn’t have been more than thirty seconds, but it felt like his own terrible, painful eternity. What if Viktor could never skate again? What if Yuuri could have saved his career by forcing him to go to a doctor sooner? What if Yuuri could have helped by not allowing Viktor to evade his questions?

“She said that it’s arthritis,” Viktor whispered, his voice starting to wobble as he let out a wet laugh. “Can you believe that?” The soft crack in his voice had Yuuri’s blood running cold and painful through his veins, like ice crystals were suddenly pulsing through his whole body. 

“Arthritis? How…?” 

“Apparently skating so intensely for so many years put too much stress on my joint. She said it’s not uncommon,” Viktor told him, voice shaking and soft. “I guess now I...now I got the surprise I was looking for.” 

Viktor let out a forced, breathy laugh that drove an icepick straight through Yuuri’s heart and the world fell away beneath his feet, his stomach swooping. 

“Viktor,” Yuuri whispered again, unable to find any other words when his hands started to shake. His hand gripped his phone tighter, trying to keep himself together. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m not sure,” Viktor admitted, voice still so soft and making Yuuri’s eyes start to water. “Where are you?” 

“I’m at Ice Castle with Yurio and Otabek.” 

“I think I’ll just go back to your house. I’m sorry,” Viktor said. 

“No, that’s okay. What did she say about skating? Can you…?” 

“I...I don’t really want to talk about it over the phone.” 

Yuuri nodded, realizing a moment later that Viktor couldn’t see him and jumped. 

“Th-that’s fine. I-I’ll be back soon. Just rest, okay?” 

“Я тебя люблю, солнышко. Прости.” 

The line clicked and Yuuri found that the air in the rink felt thinner. Why was Viktor apologizing? Wasn’t this Yuuri’s fault? Because he got Viktor to get back into skating and put more pressure on his leg? Didn’t he cause this? Wasn’t all of this  _ his fault _ ?

He hadn’t realized that he let go of his phone until it clacked onto the ice. The air was so thin, how could anyone breathe like this? How could anyone stand it? He needed to get out, he needed to get outside so he could breathe. 

“Hey! What the hell are you doing? What happened?” 

Yuuri turned around to face Yuri and Otabek, eyes stinging and body trembling. The room was spinning around him and he couldn’t feel his hands. His legs were tingling beneath him as he tried to skate forward.

“I-It...Viktor’s…” His tongue was numb, his throat was closing up, nothing was working. “It’s my fault,” he finally whispered, trembling fingers running through his hair as his knees knocked together. He did this, he made Viktor come back. He made his leg get worse faster than it would have before. This was because of him. Viktor was in pain and distressed and it was his fault. He did this to him.

“What? What are you talking about?” Yuri asked, getting closer to the rink gate as Yuuri started breathing even heavier. Yuuri’s eyes flicked from Yuri’s put-out expression to Otabek’s subtle look of concern before his legs gave out beneath him and the world fell away. 

Viktor was going to hate him. Viktor was going to realize that this was Yuuri’s fault and blame him. He was going to realize that Yuuri did this to him and leave. Viktor was going to  _ hate  _ him. 

Yuuri’s hands dropped down to cover his face as he pushed himself back until he hit the boards at the far end of the rink. He dug his nails into his scalp as he tried to keep himself grounded, thoughts spiraling and consuming him. What was he going to do? He couldn’t face Viktor. He was going to realize that all of this was Yuuri’s fault soon, then what would he do?

He had grown so attached to Viktor, he loved him so much. How was he supposed to handle Viktor hating him? 

“ _ Hey _ ! Are you even listening to me?” Yuri shouted, kneeling in front of Yuuri with their knees nearly touching. His hands were gripping Yuuri’s wrists and forcefully tugging them away from his face. Yuuri shuddered, tears building up along his eyelids as he desperately pulled on his wrists, trying to bring them back to his face. When had Yuri run onto the ice? When had he gotten so close? Why did he run out onto the ice in his street shoes? He could get hurt.

Yuuri shook his head. He had to hide, he couldn’t handle seeing Yuri’s face when he realized what Yuuri had done. Everyone in the skating community would know soon. Everyone would blame him for taking Viktor from the ice again. 

“It’s my fault. I’m sorry. I’m sorry!” Yuuri gasped out, voice shaking and cracking as he spoke, finally breaking Yuri’s hold on his hands and covering his face again. The icy bite of the ring on his finger against his cheek made him flinch. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Yuri asked as he sat back, looking wholly unsure how to handle the situation. Yuuri hunched his shoulders as he covered his face, nails biting into his skin again. 

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, air thinner the more he tried to take it in. Yuri stared at him like he was speaking in tongues. Otabek stood a few feet away, carefully bending down to pick up Yuuri’s phone, his own street shoes slipping slightly as he stood straight again. 

“Yuri, should I call Viktor?” 

“No!” Yuuri shouted, unsure if the question was directed at him, but not caring either way if it was. His fingers tangled into his hair, tugging sharply and shaking his head. “Please,” he added, so soft he was unsure if even Yuri could hear him. 

“Give me that phone,” Yuri said, holding his hand out and pulling it up to his face as soon as it was tentatively placed in his open palm. He quickly flicked through Yuuri’s contacts before his eyes narrowed and he nodded, stopping his scrolling and dialing without a second thought. He set the phone down beside Yuuri’s leg on the ice and waited. 

A moment later a familiar voice sounded over his phone speakers and Yuuri’s chest ached. 

“Yuuri! What’s up?” Phichit asked, voice bright in the cold, empty rink. 

“He’s freaking out and he won’t let us call Viktor. I don’t know what’s wrong with him,” Yuri said, voice blunt and almost concerned. 

“Yuuri, are you there?” Phichit asked, much more serious. Yuuri bit back a groan as his nails dug deeper into his scalp. 

“Yeah.” 

“Hey, do you want to tell me about it?” 

“I-I can’t,” Yuuri whispered. “You’ll hate me. Everyone will hate me, I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t worry about it, Yuuri, that’s fine. I’m sure no one will hate you,” Phichit said. His voice was so warm that Yuuri desperately wanted to believe him, but the aching anxiety pulsed in his chest and he just couldn’t. “Do you want to walk around?” 

“I don’t want to move. I can’t feel my legs, I don’t…” 

“That’s alright, just do what you need to, Yuuri.” 

“Should he take deep breaths or something?” Yuri asked, voice harsher than he probably intended for it to be. 

“No, he could start hyperventilating if he does,” Phichit said. Yuuri tried his best to regulate his breathing, tried to get himself in order. Anything to stop Yuri from looking so worried. Anything to stop Phichit from worrying. “There’s not a lot you can do right now aside from be there. I know it sucks to feel powerless but that’s just how it is.” 

“What the hell is even wrong with him?” 

“He’s having a panic attack.”

“What for? Nothing even happened!” Yuri shouted, sounding angry, but Yuuri couldn’t tell what exactly he was angry about. Phichit sighed over the phone and Yuuri would have laughed if it didn’t feel like his chest was going to tear itself apart from the inside. A shuddering sob escaped his lips and he pulled himself into a tighter ball, trying to disappear after drawing their attention back to him. 

“Yuuri, it’s okay. You’ve done this before, you can get through this,” Phichit told him. He shook his head, still gripping his hair and digging his nails into his skin. He could hardly feel the pain, but the action felt grounding, and he didn’t want to give that up. Not when he couldn’t feel his body, not when the world was spinning around him. 

“Viktor’s going to hate me, it’s my fault,” Yuuri murmured. The room was spinning faster around him and his limbs tingled, pulsing with every frantic beat of his heart. He just wanted the movement to stop. He wanted to be home. 

“Yuri, his hands,” Otabek said simply and immediately Yuuri felt warm, frantic hands grabbing at his wrists again, yanking his arms away from his face, nails leaving a soft, almost-grounding sting in their absence. 

“You’re going to hurt yourself, moron!” Yuri shouted and Yuuri flinched, a weak whine escaping his lips as he turned away. Everything hurt. 

“Yuuri!” Phichit interjected, drawing his attention to his phone again. “Yuuri, are you wearing your glasses?” he asked. Yuuri reached up, pulling Yuri’s arm with him as his fingers met the hard lines of his glasses with a start. Everything seemed so blurry. 

“Yeah.” 

“Can you tell me five things you see? Just five, okay?” 

“I-I…” Yuuri cut himself off on a choked off yelp as he shook his head and closed his eyes, tugging his arms in an attempt to get them away from Yuri’s firm grasp and onto his face again, feeling more resistance than before. “Everything’s spinning, I can’t. I can’t, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” 

“No, that’s okay,” Phichit said quickly. “Can you do a few math problems for me? Just a couple, really simple ones.” 

Yuuri gave a stiff nod as he closed his eyes tighter, pressing his face into his knees and murmuring a few addition problems loud enough for Phichit to hear him. “That’s perfect, Yuuri. You can do this, I know you can.” 

“Y-yeah, you’re fine,” Yuri added. Yuuri could feel Yuri’s hands trembling against his wrists as his grip tightened slightly. 

The room was slowly coming to a stop, but his heart was still racing. He was sure that Yuri could feel his pulse slamming against his veins and tried to pull his hands away again, but Yuri stayed firm. 

A few silent minutes passed and Yuuri’s shoulders finally drooped as his heart slowed in his chest and he let his head fall back against the boards. His body gave an almighty ache and he just wanted to disappear. 

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, feeling fresh tears building up in his eyes as he met Yuri’s gaze. The thinly veiled concern pushed him over the edge and he shook his head when he heard Phichit try to reassure him. The tears felt searing against his chilled cheeks and he almost flinced.

“What the hell happened?” Yuri demanded. Yuuri sighed, finally prying his arms away from the younger skater’s grasp and wrapped them around his knees. “What’s your fault? Wasn’t that Viktor on the phone?” 

“Viktor has arthritis,” Yuuri said softly, feeling the resounding shocked silence seep into his bones as he continued. “I-I was the one who got him to come back to skating. It’s my fault that it was aggravated, it’s my fault that he’s in pain now. If he has to step down now...it’ll be all my fault!” 

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard!” Yuri roared, grabbing Yuuri’s shoulders and shaking him until Yuuri looked up to meet his glare with watery eyes. “That old man did this to himself by not taking care of his body this season, how the fuck is any of that your fault?” 

“I don’t think that’s helping,” Otabek said softly, reaching down to pull Yuri back. “You should talk to Viktor about how you feel. Work it out together, I think.” 

“I agree,” Phichit said softly. “You can’t keep these kinds of feelings bottled up, Yuuri.” 

Yuuri shook his head with a hiccup, trying to contain his tears and dry his eyes with his sweatpants. 

“He’ll leave. When he realizes that I did this to him, he’ll leave.” 

“Oh, Yuuri,” Phichit whispered. His voice wavered and it only served to make his tears flow faster. He kept hurting the people around him. He just wanted to be alone. 

“I’m gonna kick that geezer’s ass!” Yuri declared suddenly. Otabek kept a solid grip on his hand to keep him from leaving and shook his head. 

“I think that will make his hip worse,” he reasoned. “Let’s just head back, okay?” 

Yuri scoffed but nodded, reaching down to help Yuuri to his feet. Yuuri wobbled on his skates, trying to keep himself vertical as his legs still shook beneath him. He gripped his phone in his hand, noting the long crack along the screen and grimacing. 

It took him longer than usual to get out of his skating equipment, trying to make his fingers move against the numb tingling was harder than he thought it would be. He fumbled with the laces on his skates and the zipper on his bag while he tried to clear his head and get his hands to stop shaking. The bracing chill once they finally exited the building helped the pounding in his head for a moment, though, which he was grateful for. 

Logically, he knew that there was very little chance of Viktor blaming him for his condition, but that didn’t make the dull ache in his chest any better. He still couldn’t shake the guilt digging itching claws into his shoulder blades. No amount of rationalization would quiet the deafening rush in his ears. 

The hesitance and concern that had dripped from Phichit’s voice before they hung up echoed through Yuuri’s head amid his own swirling thoughts and he gripped his bag strap tighter. He didn’t want to worry anyone. He didn’t want to feel this way. 

His thoughts swirled and consumed him until he realized with a start that they had arrived at the entrance to Yu-topia. 

He followed Yuri and Otabek inside and silently slipped his shoes off. His mother appeared before him with a sad smile and tilted her head slightly, searching his face. 

“Vicchan is in the banquet room, I’m having him ice his hip and I gave him a few pain—Yuuri, what happened to your forehead?” she asked, sounding alarmed as she reached out to push some of Yuuri’s hair out of his face and inspect his hairline, deep indents still visible and aching. 

“It’s nothing, mom.” 

“Did you have another one?” she asked, not really needing a response as she frowned and her eyes darted over the small impressions in his skin. She smoothed his hair down a moment later with another small smile as she shook her head. “Go see Vicchan and rest. You can come down for dinner in a little while.” 

Yuuri nodded, walking briskly past Otabek and Yuri as he made his way to his room, ignoring the worried glances he received as he passed them. 

He opened the door with his head bowed, setting his bag down beside the wall and twisting his fingers together without looking up. 

He could hear shifting on the bed and glanced up, worried that Viktor was trying to stand up and unconsciously reaching his hands out, as if to catch him. As if Viktor had suddenly lost his ability to walk altogether. Viktor had just pushed himself to the side of the bed, looking Yuuri over with a small frown. 

He opened his arms after a quiet moment and Yuuri found himself rushing forward and collapsing into them, wrapping his arms around Viktor’s chest tightly. 

“I’m sorry,” he found himself whispering into Viktor’s shirt, holding him too tightly and trying to comfort him as much as possible with his body trembling the way it was. 

“Why are you apologizing?” Viktor whispered back, “this isn’t your fault, Yuuri.” 

Yuuri shook his head as he pulled away to readjust, pulling Viktor’s face into his neck and running his fingers through silky silver hair once Viktor’s voice started to waver slightly. 

“I asked you to come back. It was...it’s my fault that it’s gotten worse.” 

“No, it’s not,” Viktor said seriously, pressing further into Yuuri’s comforting embrace despite the odd angle. “I should have said something, and I should have been taking better care of myself. If I didn’t want to come back, I wouldn’t have.” 

Viktor’s lips dragged against his skin, nose pressing firmly into Yuuri’s throat and all Yuuri wanted to do was pull him even closer. He wanted to protect him from everything, take all of his pain away. He felt helpless. Useless. 

“What did the doctor say about skating?” he asked softly, lips pressed to the top of Viktor’s head. 

“She said that there are a lot of options for pain relief.”  

Yuuri’s stomach dropped. 

“You...you’re still planning to skate in the final, aren’t you?” 

“Of course,” Viktor said, holding Yuuri tighter. “I made a promise to you.” 

“Viktor, that doesn’t matter to me, not if you’re going to be in pain. I can’t...I can’t stand to see you in pain.” He left off the reminder that it was his fault that Viktor felt that drive and need to prove himself again. 

“I want to. I want to keep skating, Yuuri. It’s not...it’s not that bad yet. If I just...listen to my doctor and do some light physical therapy…” 

“Viktor, I need for you to tell me how bad it is. Please...please don’t lie to me.” 

Viktor sighed into Yuuri’s shoulder, holding him tightly for another moment before pulling back and looking into Yuuri’s eyes. 

“It’s mild,” he said. “The cartilage is damaged and there’s bone contact but there aren’t any bone spurs or cysts or anything yet. It’s...it could be worse. If I start treating it, then it shouldn’t deteriorate as quickly as it has been.” Viktor’s eyes were so determined, sending a shock of warmth through Yuuri’s chest. Viktor leaned in to capture Yuuri’s lips in a soft, desperate kiss. 

Yuuri kissed him back, needy for Viktor’s warmth, his touch. The kiss devolved naturally as they both took in soft breaths and pushed their foreheads together. Viktor looked over his face as a silence fell over them. “Yuuri, have you been crying?” 

Yuuri’s breath caught in his throat as his eyes widened and he pulled away from Viktor’s face, shrugging helplessly. “And your forehead! What—? Oh...Yuuri.” Viktor’s voice grew progressively quieter as shock took over his face. “I’m sorry, солнышко.” 

“Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault. Please...please don’t apologize.” Yuuri’s voice was tight and Viktor just nodded, settling down more comfortably on the bed and gesturing for Yuuri to join him. His arms were warm and safe and Yuuri could almost forget about the biting ache in his chest as he laid against Viktor’s side. Almost. 

His fingers ran over Viktor’s side, brushing against the top of his hip every few moments, feeling the chill on his skin from the ice pack still sitting atop his shirt and sweats. 

“Your mom really is amazing,” Viktor said into the stark quiet of the room, pressing soft kisses along Yuuri’s hairline as he did. Yuuri smiled tiredly as he nodded. 

“She’s always liked you, though.” 

Viktor hummed, and Yuuri could feel his small smile against his forehead. 

“Are you feeling any better? I can bring some dinner up here if you’re tired.” 

“You’re supposed to be resting.” 

“I can still  _ walk _ , моя любовь,” Viktor lamented, a note of teasing in his voice. “You really  _ do  _ think I’m old.”

Yuuri laughed, chest light and swirling with a comforting warmth. It felt so good to laugh that his head almost spun in relief.

“You’re not old,” he said through his laughter, trying to reign it in as he glanced up to see Viktor’s pouting face. He leaned up, ignoring the heat in his cheeks and kissed Viktor’s lips slowly. Viktor sighed as he responded and held Yuuri tighter. 

“I’ll go grab you something to eat. It’s about time I stop icing, and the doctor said I should avoid staying still for too long, anyway.” 

Yuuri watched Viktor pull away and slip out of the bed. Viktor’s fingers ran through Yuuri’s hair before he stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him. 

When he returned, Yuri trailed behind him, looking sheepish. 

“I wanted to make sure you weren’t still freaking out, or something,” he said, avoiding Yuuri’s eyes as Viktor sat down on the bed beside him and set a bowl of katsudon in his lap, looking over to Yuuri and waiting. Yuuri smiled, pushing himself up slowly, ignoring the vertigo as he slipped his legs over the side of the bed and looked into the bowl Viktor brought with a sigh. 

“I’m fine, thank you, Yurio.” 

“Do...do you have those a lot?” he asked, lingering close to the door and keeping his eyes downcast and scowling. 

“Not as often as I used to.” 

Yuri’s scowl seemed to intensify and his fists clenched. 

“Have I ever...said something that...made you have one?” 

The question had Yuuri’s head whipping toward the door with a start. Viktor’s arm draped around Yuuri’s waist, fingers twitching at Yuri’s question. Once he realized that he was being silent for too long, he quickly shook his head, trying to meet Yuri’s eyes. 

“No, no, Yurio. You haven’t.” 

He could see Yuri’s fists clenching at his sides as he nodded curtly. 

“Tell me...if I say something that...that makes you feel like that.” 

“I will.” 

Yuri spun on his heel at that, stomping out of the room as quickly as possible and sliding the door shut with more force than necessary behind him. 

Yuuri felt lighter for a few hours, eating and talking to Viktor as the night went on. He tried not to let himself fall into self-blame again, but it was harder the later it got. The more Viktor’s eyes drooped, the more he could feel anxiety tugging on his skin once more. 

Long after everyone had gone to sleep, Yuuri slipped away from Viktor’s hold and met the bracing chill of the outside air to run. He ran for hours, until his legs could hardly carry him, until he was so absolutely exhausted that he didn’t have to fight to keep his eyes closed, to turn his mind off. Until he could finally sleep. 

__

Yuuri’s running had become a worrying habit, even after they returned to St. Petersburg a few days later. It was three days before they were to leave for Marseille and Viktor awoke to a cold bed. His eyes adjusted to the darkness as he reached out to run a hand over the spot Yuuri should have occupied. 

It had gone as cold as the room and Viktor nodded, sitting up slowly and pushed himself up and off the bed. The stiffness was easier to walk off in the early hours of the morning than when he slept through the night. Makkachin perked up from his place at the end of the bed and watched Viktor with attentive eyes. Viktor smiled softly, running his fingers through the poodle’s soft curls before trudging to the kitchen. It was like this on most nights as Yuuri seemed to be working something out within himself. Viktor feared that Yuuri still blamed himself for his condition. 

Viktor turned on the kettle with a small yawn. He turned his attention to Makkachin at his feet as he waited for the water to boil, smiling at the enthusiastic licks he received on his hand as he tried to scratch behind the dog’s ears. 

It wasn’t long before the water was ready and Viktor pulled down two mugs and Yuuri’s favorite green tea. The process of preparing the tea was almost therapeutic at that point, body moving on reflex. He grabbed both mugs once he was finished and set them both down on the low bartop on the other side of the counter. 

He knew that if he stood while waiting for Yuuri, he would be scolded, so he settled himself into one of the chairs at the short bar top and set Yuuri’s tea beside his, sipping slowly as he waited. 

The door opened just a few minutes later and Yuuri walked inside, panting and red-faced. He hung his coat and dropped his eyes to Viktor’s back, making his way to the kitchen slowly. 

“How was your run, солнышко?” 

Yuuri just grunted his response, body already drooping as he fell into the chair beside Viktor and reached instinctively for the second cup of tea. He let his head fall against Viktor’s shoulder as he slowly drank his tea. 

“I’m sorry for causing you trouble.” 

Viktor laughed, shaking his head as he wrapped a strong arm around Yuuri’s shoulder. He turned his head to lay a gentle kiss to the crown of Yuuri’s head before hs spoke. 

“You have nothing to apologize for, моё золотце. Everything is okay.” 

Yuuri nodded tiredly against his neck and Viktor ran his thumb over Yuuri’s shoulder in a slow, soothing rhythm. 

Viktor had been practicing as hard as he could, trying to adhere to his doctor’s orders as much as possible, doing the exercises he was told to. He would look into more intense treatments after the final. He didn’t want to disrupt any more practice than he needed to, so he just took the pain in stride and kept skating. He knew there was nothing he could to make it any better, so he did his best to push it to the back of his mind. 

“This final will be so different than last year’s,” Yuuri said, taking another sip of tea. Viktor hummed. 

“Why do you say that? Because I’ll be in it again?” 

“Well that,” Yuuri agreed. “But Yurio won’t be, and neither will JJ. And Seung-gil will be there this year.” 

“But the rest of the line-up is the same. You, Phichit, Chris, and Otabek will be there.” 

Yuuri frowned, shrugging one shoulder and finishing the rest of his tea, limbs drooping heavily  as he leaned into Viktor’s touch more. 

“Still, it’ll just be different.” 

“Is there something wrong with that?” 

“No, nothing’s wrong. It will just be new.” 

“Did you ever find out what happened to JJ?” 

“He injured his spine. I think he was going to come back for Four Continents and Worlds. He thought that missing the Grand Prix Final was worth it to make sure that his injury healed correctly.”

There was a subtle bite in Yuuri’s tone and Viktor just smiled and ignored it. 

“Well he just started his career, it’s a good idea for him to do what he can not to end it so soon.” 

Yuuri laughed softly, clearly seeing that Viktor was deflecting, but letting him be for the moment. Maybe he was too tired. With that thought in mind, Viktor helped Yuuri to his feet and placed the two empty mugs in the sink before slowly pushing him to the bathroom. 

Yuuri nearly fell asleep rinsing his hair in the sink and changing into his pajamas. Viktor smiled, perhaps a touch too adoring as he lead Yuuri to the bed and slipped in behind him. Yuuri was too tired to see it anyway, falling asleep almost as soon as his head met his pillow. 

Viktor carded his fingers through Yuuri’s damp hair for a few moments as his eyes grew heavy. Everything would be alright. With Yuuri by his side, everything would be alright. It had to be. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phewwww this one is a little late, too, sorry, I’ve been losing a lot of hours this week;;; but it is here!! And not nearly as short as I thought it would be! We’re finally getting to talking like adults! And the Final!! Who’s excited???? 
> 
> I hope that this chapter turned out alright even though there wasn’t any skating, so I hope that the flow still feels good for you! Once again, a lot of Yuuri’s anxiety experiences are drawn from my own anxiety, so if anything feels off or anything just let me know!!;; I’m doing my best with representing the arthritis and keeping everything as in character as possible, but if any of you have any better experience or advice please let me know and I’ll fix it as much as I can!! And if you were really gunning for some more angst then keep your angst cap on because this was certainly not the end of my dastardly plans!!
> 
> I’m also not a Russian expert, so if I do anything wrong, please let me know and I’ll fix anything that I need to lickety-split!! 
> 
> Shoutout to mistralle for helping me out with Russian translations! It was so helpful T^T I also just want to thank everyone for their amazing comments and all your kudos and just aaah you guys are all just so amazing and thank you so much for sticking with this story and enjoying like. I can’t. Thank you so so much. 
> 
> SO yes, we will be in France next chapter! Woo! Things are heating up! Aaah! And do not fear! If you're really hankering for the JJ Style (tm) then stay tuned for Four Continents, I promise you will get your fix eventually!
> 
> EDIT: SORRY I TOTALLY FORGOT TO PUT IN MY TRANSLATIONS OMGG;;;  
> солнышко - sunshine/my sunshine  
> Я тебя люблю - I love you  
> Прости - I’m sorry/Sorry  
> моё золотце - my gold  
> моя любовь - my love
> 
> Have a good weekend and be safe, everyone! <3
> 
> If you have a minute and something to say please drop a comment and let me know how I’m doing!! I hope that you’re all still enjoying this story!! 
> 
> ~JD
> 
> P.S. for anyone who meanders in late, i also made some art for this chapter??? you can look at it [here](http://daiyanodumpster.tumblr.com/post/156834570152/i-have-no-self-control-and-i-made-another-art) if you want to;;; and you can check out my tumblr there too yay?? anyway sorry yeah;;; ~~stuff~~


	7. Complication on the Ice!! Grand Prix Final Short Program Begins!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning!! This chapter contains brief depictions of blood and an injury, not especially graphic, though, just in case. Please take care of yourselves!!

Yuuri’s eyes followed Viktor lazily as he paced across the hotel room they shared in Marseille. It was the day before the short program and Yuuri was still wrapped up in their blankets, just watching Viktor try to walk off the morning stiffness in his hip.

“Has it been getting worse?” Yuuri asked when Viktor reached down to massage at his hip with a soft sigh. His voice was rough and soft, but it still made Viktor jump and turn to look at him.

“Yuuri, солнышко, how long have you been awake?”  

Yuuri shrugged, pulling the blankets up higher and meeting Vikor’s gaze.

“A little while.”

Viktor sat down on the edge of the bed with a bemused smile, reaching out to run his fingers through Yuuri’s messy hair. Yuuri pushed up into the touch and smiled back. He reached out of the blankets to tug Viktor down, trying to be as careful as possible when their lips met.

Viktor hummed into the kiss, smiling even wider as his hand moved down to cup Yuuri’s cheek, his palm warm and soft. Yuuri broke the kiss, laying his head back on his pillow and looking over Viktor’s features and warm, flushed cheeks. “Is it, though?” he asked. Viktor’s face twisted in confusion and he tilted his head slightly. “Getting worse. Your hip.”

“It’s fine, Yuuri,” he said with a soft smile. He leaned forward slightly to bump their foreheads together. “It’s pretty much the same as it has been.”

“And you’re sure you’re okay to skate tomorrow?”

Viktor’s responding smile was slightly put out as his hands tangled in Yuuri’s hair again.

“Yes, солнышко, I’ll be fine.”

Yuuri didn’t believe him. He could see the way Viktor dodged his gaze, the way he always tried to hide his pain when they skated. It was obvious that he was still in pain despite the things his doctor had told him to try. It had only been a little over a week, and, logically, Yuuri knew that Viktor’s symptoms wouldn’t be immediately resolved, but it still made his stomach twist. Viktor’s thumb rubbing over his cheek drew Yuuri’s attention up again and he flushed at the slightly worried furrow of Viktor’s eyebrows. “You can talk to me,” he said softly. “If something’s bothering you, you can always tell me.”

“You already have so much to deal with, I don’t want to add to it unnecessarily,” Yuuri murmured, eyes traveling down Viktor’s chest in a vain attempt to avoid his attention. Viktor made a distressed sort of whine as he cradled Yuuri’s face with both of his hands and tilted his chin up until Yuuri met his gaze.

“Don’t downplay your feelings, Yuuri. This whole... _everything_ has been hard for _both_ of us. I know that you’re trying to make this easier for me, but I don’t want that if it’s going to make it so much harder for you.”

“I’m fine, Viktor, I...I don’t mind taking more of the burden so that everything can be easier for you. I-I mean there’s no reason for me to feel like this anyway, there’s nothing wrong with me, you’re the one who has to…” Yuuri bit his lip as he hiked his shoulder higher, sinking further into the blankets and looking away from Viktor’s eyes again

Viktor’s lips on his made him jump, his eyes jerking to look at Viktor again. When Viktor pulled back, his eyes were fierce and strong and Yuuri could only stare at them, frozen in place.

“Don’t say that, Yuuri. Don’t ever say that you’re not allowed to feel something like that,” he said. “You’re allowed to be anxious, солнышко, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“You’re already dealing with so much.”

“Yuuri,” Viktor hummed, a voice that always made Yuuri feel like he were about to melt on the spot. “When you love someone, it’s not a burden to take some of their pain and worries. You do it for me, I want to do it for you, too.”

“I just don’t want to lose you,” Yuuri finally said, knowing that Viktor was right, but feeling the ache of uncertainty drown his mind. He pressed his face into Viktor’s shoulder, just trying to keep himself together.

“Why would you lose me, моё золотце?” Viktor asked, sitting back as Yuuri pushing further into him, arms wrapped tightly around his waist. Viktor’s hands moved up to run through Yuuri’s hair again, trying to be as gently as possible through the knots.

“Because eventually you’ll realize that this is at least partly my fault. You’re in pain and I just feel so awful, Viktor.”

“I’ve been pushing myself for over twenty years, Yuuri, it was going to be a problem no matter what,” Viktor reasoned, an argument he brought up often.

Yuuri shook his head, fingers gripping the back of Viktor’s shirt until his knuckles blanched.

“Not for a lot longer. And you’ve been pushing yourself more than you should be because you’re coaching me, too. I asked for something selfish and now you’re suffering for it. And I’m scared that you’ll realize that soon.”

Viktor sighed, leaning forward to press a kiss to the crown of Yuuri’s head as he held him tighter.

“What if I didn’t come back, and didn’t realize there was a problem until it was much worse? What if I didn’t notice until I had to have my whole hip replaced?”

“What if this season was what caused the worst of the cartilage damage?” Yuuri asked softly. “What if it wouldn’t have been an issue for years? Or decades, even?”

“I wish I could take those thoughts away. I wish I could make you feel better.”

Yuuri nodded against Viktor’s shoulder but stayed silent otherwise. They sat in silence for a while longer before Yuuri pulled away and stood from the bed.

“We should get to the rink to practice. Do you need anything?” he asked. Viktor pouted, pushing himself off the bed and leaning in to peck Yuuri’s lips before moving into the bathroom.

“I’m _fine_ , моё золотце,” he said, though there was still a lilt of teasing in his tone.

Yuuri smiled softly and turned away to get ready.

__

Yakov stopped Viktor and called him over after he stumbled on a quadruple lutz. Viktor’s heart slammed against his chest as he neared Yakov, who was wearing a particularly unimpressed glare. Was Yakov going to make him forfeit? Did he think that Viktor wasn't well enough to skate?

His hip hurt, but he could handle it. He nodded to himself as he drew closer to an inevitable lecture. He could handle this. He knew what was wrong, there was nothing he could do to cure it, so he could handle it.

He momentarily glanced over his shoulder to find Yuuri practicing his step sequence while Yuri stood at the sidelines and shouted suggestions at him. Otabek was draped over the boards beside Yuri, silently watching the interaction and drinking water.

Viktor reached the boards in front of Yakov much sooner than he would have liked, trying to look excited and oblivious to dissuade his coach’s oncoming rant.

“Vitya, do you need to rest?” he asked, which was _not_ what he was supposed to ask. Viktor recoiled at if he were struck, staring at Yakov with wide, curious eyes.

“Do I…?”

“Do you need to rest your hip before we run it one last time?”

“Um.”

Viktor tried to figure out where his real coach may have gone as he stared at Yakov with distrust. Yakov seemed to catch on after a moment, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest.

“There's no reason to try to keep you off the ice for your own safety, you always do what you want no matter what I tell you. I want you to do as well as you possibly can tomorrow since you'll skate no matter what anyone says.”

Viktor reached down to rub at his hip as he thought, searching Yakov’s face and trying not to smile too much. As much as Yakov could be exasperated with him, he also cared.

“I’m okay to go again,” he said, not feeling any more pain than he was becoming accustomed to. Yakov nodded, still frowning as Viktor skated away to start up his short program again.

“Don’t push the jumps, Vitya!” he shouted. Viktor smiled. “Reduce your quads to triples for now!”

The look on Yakov’s face said that he was unimpressed with Viktor’s responding laughter as he skated across the ice.

He only ended up reducing one of his jumps, much to Yakov’s very clear distaste.

He dutifully stepped off the ice once he was finished, mollifying his silently stewing coach enough that he didn’t yell at Viktor too much. Viktor wanted to hug him, but held back, knowing that it clearly wasn’t the time.

He turned instead to the ice, smiling at Yuuri spinning at the center of the rink, the last one left skating. Otabek was talking quietly to his coach a few feet away, unlacing his skates. Viktor made his way toward Yuri and leaned on the boards beside him. Yuri huffed, but said nothing.

“I’m going to take Yuuri out once he’s done skating, walk along La Canebière, that sort of thing. Would you and Otabek like to join us?”

“I don’t want to tag along on your weird date, Viktor.”

Yuri almost seemed to gag as he spoke and Viktor fought to keep a laugh in, eyes following Yuuri on the ice as he ran through his short program without needing to be told to do so.

“It’s not weird, La Canebière is quite famous, Yurio.”

Yuri rolled his eyes, slumping down against the boards slightly as he watching Yuuri skate, feigning disinterest.

“I’ll pass. Otabek and I are going to do something on our own. I don’t want to have to see you two acting all romantic any more than I absolutely have to.”

Viktor hummed noncommittally, smiling bright when Yuuri moved into his final pose, breathing hard. He basked in the adrenaline rush for a moment before he jolted slightly and looked up, meeting Viktor’s eyes and smiling so bright Viktor’s knees almost gave out beneath him.

“How was that?” he asked as he skated forward and took the water bottle Viktor offered to him.

“That was great, моя любовь,” Viktor said. “I think we’re finished for today, you shouldn’t push yourself too hard before the competition tomorrow.”

Yuuri nodded in agreement as he pulled the bottle from his mouth with a sigh. Viktor leaned over slightly, tugging Yuuri forward to press a quick, soft kiss to his lips over the boards. The rink was almost completely empty aside from their fellow skaters anyway. Yuuri still flushed but kissed him back, his warm cheeks making Viktor’s icy nose tingle.

The groan from Yuri beside them made Viktor huff out a soft laugh, unable to keep kissing Yuuri because of how wide he was smiling.

“It's like you _want_ people putting pictures of you two kissing all over the internet,” Yuri complained as he walked away and pulled Otabek out of the rink. When Viktor pulled back further he could see the unimpressed look Yuuri was shooting him but happily ignored it.

"Hmm, maybe he's right," Viktor teased, making Yuuri chuckle. 

While Yuuri stepped off the ice, Viktor looked around until he found one of the event employees who had been watching the practice and greeted her in French with a wide smile. She smiled back, allowing him to draw her into some small-talk before he asked what he really wanted to know.

“Comment va-t-on au Vieux-Port s'il vous plaît?”

She laughed as she explained that the rink was actually right next to a tunnel that led straight to Le Vieux-Port, which was where the avenue he intended to take Yuuri to started.

“Merci beaucoup,” he said and she just nodded, smiling as he turned to find Yuuri standing nearby.

“You speak French,” he said. Viktor was unsure whether it was meant to be a question or not, so he just nodded.

“Oui, mon soleil,” he said, with a small grin, watching Yuuri’s cheeks heat up as he searched Viktor’s face.

“Wh...what did that second part mean?” he asked, fidgeting with his bag strap.

“‘Солнышко,’” Viktor said, smirking at the way Yuuri narrowed his eyes and pouted his lips just so.

“Stop showing off and get your stuff.”

Viktor agreed easily, gathering his belongings and making his way back to Yuuri, slipping his free hand around the other man’s waist as he did. Yuuri smiled, slipping his arm around Viktor’s waist in return, his hand settling almost protectively over Viktor’s right hip. “How is it? It’s not hurting too much?”

Viktor shook his head, kissing Yuuri’s temple as he led him toward the doors so they could go to their hotel before going back out.

“It’s fine for now, thank you, Yuuri,” he said, grinning when Yuuri jerked his head away from Viktor’s lips and pushed at him gently.

“Viktor, I’m sweaty,” he said. Viktor pouted, which only made Yuuri laugh softly as he pulled Viktor along by his hand.

__

Yuuri had been hesitant to go back out, glancing at Viktor’s hip constantly when he thought that Viktor wasn’t looking, but the desperation on Viktor’s face had him caving and allowing himself to be guided back out of the hotel after showering and putting on clean clothes.

When they arrived at Viktor’s desired destination, Yuuri was amazed, gasping in wonder as he spun around to take in the port at sunset. All the boats bobbed in the deep blue water, snow piled up on the tarps that covered them.

Viktor was staring at him, eyes filled with so much raw emotion that Yuuri felt like he had been punched in the stomach.

“It’s beautiful here,” he said to fill the silence somehow as Viktor seemed content to just watch him look around. Viktor preened at his words.

“I’m glad you like it, mon amour,” Viktor said, and Yuuri paused, staring at Viktor with rapidly warming cheeks. Viktor’s responding smile was devilish, and Yuuri wanted to be annoyed, but couldn’t find it in himself to be when Viktor’s fingers tangled with his. “Come with me, let’s go!” Viktor said, tugging on Yuuri’s hand and guiding him down the avenue.

__

In the end, Yuuri was more relaxed than he thought possible as they neared the old church at the end of the path.

Viktor’s hand in his was grounding as they walked slowly. He could almost forget about being anxious about Viktor’s hip and the competition the next day.

Viktor tugging him off the path drew him out of his thoughts. He watched the back of Viktor’s head as he pulled him until they reached a bench. Viktor sat with a sigh, annoyance pinching his features as he did.

Yuuri’s heart started to beat faster as he looked Viktor over. He hadn't realized that he was squeezing Viktor’s hand until Viktor winced and looked up at him with confusion.

“Yuuri, mon coeur, what is it?”

“Are you okay?” Yuuri’s voice was barely there, eyes searching Viktor’s face for any signs of pain, any reason for him to worry.

Viktor nodded with a small, apologetic smile.

“I just need to rest for a moment. Everything is fine.”

They both knew that was a lie, but Yuuri desperately wanted to believe that it _would_ be fine. Something still ached in the pit of his stomach, the heavy, leaden fear weighing him down. The constant worst-case scenarios. His mind was drifting, consumed by the thought that something bad was going to happen. Something _worse_.

Viktor’s lips on his hand drew his eyes downward. Viktor beamed at him, laying a second kiss on Yuuri’s ring.

“Hmm, maybe you should buy me a cane for my birthday.”

“You said that you don't celebrate birthdays until the day of in Russia,” Yuuri answered, confused. Viktor’s head shot up with an odd mixture of offense and amusement.

“ _Yuuri_ ! You were seriously considering buying me a _cane_ ? I _knew_ you thought I was old,” Viktor said, voice louder than necessary and making Yuuri’s cheeks heat up as he looked around at the passerby on the street who were glancing over at them. “My heart is shattered, I'll never recover. Yuuri, моё золотце, солнышко, amour de ma vie, you’ve wounded me. Just leave me here to wither away.”

Yuuri was trying not to laugh as he reached out to quiet Viktor down somehow. Viktor leaned away from his touch, loudly lamenting Yuuri’s betrayal to everyone in the vicinity. Yuuri could feel the flush spreading down his neck and past his collar as laughter bubbled up in his throat and escaped into the chilly evening air.

“ _Viktor!_ ” he laughed, unable to contain it. Viktor was laughing too, still holding Yuuri’s hand and leaning back on the bench. When his laughter subsided, Viktor looked up to Yuuri with a glimmer in his eyes. Without warning, he tugged Yuuri down and kissed him. It was short, just a quick brush of the lips, but it reignited the blush across Yuuri’s face, a comfortable warmth settling in his stomach and soothing the knots just slightly.

Viktor pulled away from the kiss to wrap both of his arms around Yuuri’s back and press his face into Yuuri’s shoulder.

“Я тебя люблю.”

“愛してるよ, Viktor.”

“It really will be okay, Yuuri,” he said, not moving from Yuuri’s shoulder and holding him tighter. The position was awkward, but Yuuri didn’t dare break it. “We’ll figure this out together, and it’ll be okay.”

Yuuri wanted to believe him so badly, but it was just so hard. “I just want to skate with you.”

Yuuri breathed out a whisper of a laugh, holding Viktor tighter and nodding.

“I want that, too.”

“I’ll take my record back from you.”

“That sounds like a challenge.”

“Oui, mon soleil.”

Yuuri laughed again, muffling the sound in Viktor’s hair, body suddenly feeling lighter.

__

Yuuri watched Phichit on the television in the back room the next day, his heart swelling and a small grin growing on his lips. Phichit had improved so much in just one season and Yuuri couldn’t contain just how proud he was.

“It’s amazing how much he’s improved even since the Trophée de France,” Viktor said behind Yuuri’s shoulder. Yuuri nodded, unable to take his eyes away from Phichit moving across the ice like he belonged there.

“He brought his absolute best.”

“We’ll just have to show him the same, right, Yuuri?”

Yuuri smiled and nodded, feeling a wave of calm consuming him, head spinning with the rush of it.

“I’m excited to see that,” Chris chimed in from Yuuri’s left, smirking at the couple with a devious glint in his eye. Viktor grinned back as he draped his arm across Yuuri’s shoulder and nodded to Chris.

“This year’s Final is going to be very interesting.”

Chris nodded, eyes meeting Viktor’s with an obvious challenge.

“It will be, especially because this is the year I’m going to beat you,” Chris said, voice silky and making Viktor breathe a soft laugh, chest vibrating against Yuuri’s back.

“You’re not going to go easy on an old man?” Viktor asked, pouting and laying his chin pitifully on Yuuri’s shoulder. Yuuri rolled his eyes as Chris laughed again, glancing over his shoulder and nodding to his coach.

“I’ll take every opportunity I can, Viktor,” he said, turning to leave. “But you’d better do your best, it won’t feel right to beat you if you give a half-hearted performance.” With that and a smile he was gone, following after his coach as Phichit’s short program came to an end and Seung-gil stepped onto the ice.

“The score for Phichit Chulanont is 101.36.”

Yuuri’s heart leapt as he beamed, watching Phichit jump up and grab Celestino in a hug in the Kiss and Cry. It was another personal best and Yuuri was so proud he wanted to run out to hug Phichit tightly. He held back, but the joy still bubbled up in his chest.

Yuuri felt the same pride swell up after Seung-gil’s short program. He was putting his all into every movement. He was ferocious, just like he was at Four Continents and Worlds the previous season. Yuuri had shared only a few words with him since their first encounter at the Rostelecom Cup the previous year, but Yuuri still wanted him to do well.

“The score for Seung-gil Lee is 99.79.”

Viktor smiled to Yuuri as he led him toward the rink, his hand warm against Yuuri’s back. Chris was already on the ice once they made it to the rink. He floated along the ice with a smile and Yuuri could see Viktor smiling beside him, watching Chris carefully.

Yakov stood beside them, eyeing Viktor suspiciously. He said nothing, and Viktor ignored the glance easily, turning to Yuuri with a reassuring smile.

“Are you ready, Yuuri?” he asked. Yuuri bit his lip but nodded.

“I think so.”

“I’ll watch you the whole time.”

Yuuri nodded, knowing that Viktor would, like he always did, but enjoying the feeling the words gave him. Chris stepped off the ice to roaring applause. He was smiling and breathing heavily as he winked at Yuuri and made his way to the Kiss and Cry.

Yuuri stepped onto the ice, his ring a comfortable, reassuring weight on his finger. Viktor’s forehead bumped his and he let out a calming sigh as his gaze met blazing blue eyes.

“Show them what an amazing skater you are. Show them that you’re even better than last year.”

Yuuri nodded before pushing off the boards and skating around the rink to clear his mind.

“The score for Christophe Giacometti is 100.87.”

“Welcome our next skater on the ice, Yuuri Katsuki of Japan.”

Yuuri skated to the center of the ice and took his starting position. He took a calming breath as he waited for his music to start, letting his fears fuel his breathing. The music washed over him and he glided over the ice.

His anxieties consumed his movements as he laid all the fears that burned in his stomach out across the ice. He left his desperation behind his skates and hoped that the message was clear.

"He'll start with the signature move of his coach, Viktor Nikiforov, a quadruple flip."

_“It’s my fault,” Yuuri had said the day after Viktor’s diagnosis. Viktor had looked as if his heart had been ripped out of his chest as he took in at Yuuri’s devastated expression. Yuuri couldn’t bear to look at him for more than a moment and stared down at his fingers twisting together._

_“Yuuri, look at me,” Viktor begged. Yuuri shook his head, feeling his breath starting to hitch and wanted the bed to just swallow him whole. “Please, моя любовь,” Viktor whispered, voice cutting into Yuuri’s aching chest._

_“I don’t want to see it when you realize that I...that this is…” the words caught in his throat and his shoulders started to shake. Viktor’s hands were on his arms and pulling him in a moment later. Yuuri’s face was pressed against Viktor’s throat, and he tried to muffle his gasping breaths in warm skin._

_“I don’t blame you, this is in no way your fault.”_

_“You say that now, but eventually you’ll—”_

_“No, Yuuri,” Viktor said, voice steady and sure and loud in Yuuri’s ears as he cut him off. “I’ve never once blamed you for this, the thought has_ never _crossed my mind.”_

_Yuuri had no idea how to respond with the pulsing anxiety swarming his thoughts, so he just hugged Viktor tighter, letting warm, strong arms hold him so tightly he almost couldn’t breathe._

“Gorgeous quad flip, Katsuki is bringing everything he has to this program.”

Yuuri moved into his step sequence, body moving almost desperately. Did Viktor see it? Did Viktor see everything he was feeling? Could he see how much Yuuri loved him? How much he cared about him?

Of course, Yuuri knew that Viktor _knew_ how much he loved him, but he wanted to show him over and over again. He wanted Viktor to see every single day just how much Yuuri loved him. Just how much he needed him.

_“Yuuri,” his mother had called toward the end of their stay in Hasetsu. Yuuri looked up at her as he helped to put away the dishes from the night. “I know that you’re worried about Vicchan, but he’s worried about you, too.”_

_“What am I supposed to do, Mom?” Yuuri asked, defeated as he set the dishes in the sink._

_“Talk to him,” she said, as if it were really that obvious, that easy. “I know that it’s hard, but when you love someone, you have to tell them when you’re worried or scared. Loving someone means taking their pain, but also letting them take yours. You to lean on each other, you can’t just take all of his pain without him worrying about burdening you.”_

_“But it’s not a burden! I just want him to be happy.”_

_“Don’t you think Vicchan feels the same way?”_

_Yuuri sighed as his shoulders drooped and he nodded._

_“You’re right.”_

_“Of course I am!” she answered with a bright smile and reached up to pat Yuuri’s cheeks. “Go ahead, I can finish here.”_

_Yuuri nodded with a wobbly smile._

_“Thanks.”_

“Quadruple salchow, triple toeloop, beautiful form, and he’ll get extra points for the difficult entry.”

His heart was racing and adrenaline was rushing through his blood. He could feel himself starting to feel free as he glided over the ice, the chilly air brushing his cheeks as he went.

“Triple axel. Incredible. Beautiful and emotional.”

_“Pork cutlet bowl!” Yuri had shouted at him that morning in the hotel lobby. Yuuri turned to him with a tired smile. He had managed to sleep for most of the night, but still felt heavy early in the morning._

_“Good morning, Yurio.”_

_“That old man is taking care of his leg, right? It would look bad if he fell during the final.”_

_Yuuri smiled again, seeing Otabek moving toward them and settling himself at Yuri’s side._

_“Yes, he’s been taking care of it, he says that it’s fine.”_

_“But is he just saying that or does he mean it?”_

_“For now, I think he means it,” Yuuri said, glancing over Yuri’s shoulder at Viktor talking to Yakov near the doors._

_“He’s such an idiot,” Yuri grumbled, turning and glaring in Vitkor’s direction once he realized where Yuuri was looking. Otabek patted Yuri’s shoulder consolingly and sent a thumbs up in Yuuri’s direction. Yuuri nodded back with a smile. “Is he going to be able to get through this season the way he is?”_

_“I...I’m not sure. I think he’s planning on it.”_

_“Do you think he’ll make it?” Yuri asked. His voice was softer than it had been and his eyes looked like they were trying to bore holes straight through the floor. Yuuri sighed with a brief smile and patted Yuri’s shoulder._

_“I’m not sure, but let’s trust him for now, okay?”_

_Yuri shrugged, but didn’t remove Yuuri’s hand from his shoulder. Otabek almost looked proud._

Yuuri dropped into a sit spin then grabbed his foot to stand into a Y spin.

“A stunning performance from Yuuri Katsuki tonight, this is certainly going to be a close Final.”

Yuuri moved into his final pose, gasping in the icy air and closing his eyes. He moved to lie down for a moment, gasping softly as the cheers filled the rink. His heart was pounding in his ears but his chest felt light as he pushed himself up and made a round of the rink.

He stepped off the ice and was immediately engulfed in a tight hug. Viktor was laughing into Yuuri’s shoulder and Yuuri could only smile back.

“Yuuri, that was beautiful! Ты такой красивый.”

Yuuri’s skates left the ground as Viktor spun him around, giddy laughter ringing in Yuuri’s ears.

“愛してるよ, Viktor.”

“愛してるよ, Yuuri,” Viktor said back, face still smashed against Yuuri’s neck, but Yuuri could feel his face heating up and smiled. Yuuri’s heart pounded and his eyes stung as he laughed into Viktor’s hair. Viktor’s pronunciation wasn’t great, but it was understandable if nothing else. Yuuri’s throat closed up and all he could do was nod, kissing Viktor’s hairline.

“Your hip,” he managed to say when he realized that he was still being held above the ground with his skates grazing the floor. His voice was rough, and quiet, but he was sure that Viktor could hear him.

“Is fine,” Viktor said softly, squeezing Yuuri tight again before slowly setting his feet on the ground again and handing him his skate guards.

Yuuri’s heart was in his throat once they sat in the Kiss and Cry. Had it worked? Was he able to put everything on the ice?

“The score for Yuuri Katsuki, please,” a rough voice said over the speakers. “The score for Yuuri Katsuki is 112.67.”

“Amazing, a new personal best for Katsuki!”

Viktor grabbed him again, his lips pressing against Yuuri’s slowly, his arms wrapping tightly around Yuuri’s shoulders. Yuuri’s eyes widened before he relaxed and kissed him back. They both pulled away after only a moment, but the crowd had already seen, roaring and cheering through the stands. Yuuri’s entire body pulsed with heat as he looked down and covered his face. Viktor’s bright laughter only made it worse.

__

Viktor took a deep breath as he stepped on the ice, Yakov and Yuuri’s eyes on his back. He was the last to skate, Otabek having scored close behind Yuuri. He could feel the competitive spirit thrumming beneath his skin as he stood at center ice and took his starting pose.

“Our final skater of the evening is Viktor Nikiforov of Russia.”

His music filled the rink and ricocheted across the tall ceilings. His body moved fluidly through his opening movements. His leg had been a dull, constant ache the entire day, but he was beginning to be able to just ignore it when it wasn’t very bad.

“His first jump will be his signature quadruple flip.”

_Hiroko was the first to greet Yuuri and Viktor when they arrived at Yu-topia before Viktor had to leave for his doctor’s appointment. She wiggled in excitement as they stepped through the door, and Yuuri nodded and laughed, speaking in soft Japanese._

_Hiroko turned to Viktor after another moment, smiling brightly._

_“Welcome back, Vicchan!” she chimed and Viktor wouldn’t have been able to stop the smile that spread over his face if he wanted to._

_“It’s good to be here,” he said and Hiroko seemed to brighten even more, if that were possible._

_“Come in, come in!” she said, pulling on Yuuri’s hand gently. “You two can settle in before Toshiya takes Vicchan to his appointment.”_

_“We set up banquet room for you two again. I thought the bed in your old room wouldn’t be big enough,” Mari said, poking her head in from the dining room. Yuuri flushed up to his ears and past his collar and Viktor smiled fondly._

_“Were you thinking we would sleep in separate beds, моё золотце?” Viktor teased, sidling up to him and sliding his hands around his waist. Yuuri just groaned, dropping his head into his hands as Viktor pulled him closer and his mother tried to hide her laughter._

_“Why don’t you two go put your things away, I’ll let you know when you need to leave,” Hiroko said, ushering them toward the hallway with their bags._

_Yuuri’s cheeks were still pink as they set their bags down and surveyed the room. Viktor couldn’t stop himself as he leaned down to press a kiss to Yuuri’s lips, drawing a sigh from him as his shoulders drooped and he kissed back._

_“You’re so cute, солнышко,” he whispered. Yuuri rolled his eyes as he pulled away, setting their stuff further into the room and out of the way._

_“You only say that when I’m embarrassed.”_

_“Do you want me to say it more often?” Viktor asked as he sat on the bed and shot a little smirk in Yuuri’s direction. Yuuri laughed, it was a tired and soft sound and it made Viktor’s chest clench, his heart racing._

“Beautiful quad flip.”

He skated through the step sequence, his heart beating in his throat as he thought of Yuuri. How strong and compassionate he was. Viktor’s mind overflowed with so much pride and affection he could hardly contain it. His body moved easily, he could do this. “What a breathtaking choreographic sequence.”

_“Why are you doing this to yourself?!” Yuri had shouted at him when he had been practicing in Hasetsu. He had gone to Ice Castle when Yuuri was busy, but Yuri had tagged along, claiming that he wanted to practice his jumps since Otabek had been helping him over the course of the season. Viktor knew that wasn’t his only reason, but didn’t voice his opinions on the matter. Viktor looked up at Yuri as he seethed at the center of the ice, looking down at Viktor with spite and concern._

_“Because it’s not good enough yet,” Viktor whispered, wincing as he tried to stand up straighter and his hip throbbed. Yuri’s fists clenched at his sides._

_“What does that even mean, old man?”_

_“_ I’m _not good enough yet!” Viktor shouted, immediately withdrawing from Yuri’s space with a quiet apology._

_“You’re such an idiot.”_

_“I know,” Viktor whispered, a wry smile on his lips._

Something was wrong. The thought fleetingly occurred to him as he dug his toe pick into the ice and pushed off for a quadruple lutz. His hip was too stiff, his leg wasn’t in the right position.

Everything happened in a flash of pain and cold and then nothing.

__

Yuuri watched as Vitkor glided over the ice. He was enraptured and he never wanted to look away. Viktor was beautiful on and off the ice, but in that moment, Yuuri was sure he was shining. His heart was pounding just watching him, and Yuuri was felt every emotion Viktor was displaying. Every ounce of love inside him was laid bare and Yuuri felt like he was floating.

As soon as Viktor set himself up for his quadruple lutz, Yuuri’s stomach dropped, a heavy, leaden weight settling deep in his gut. Something was wrong.

In an instant, Viktor’s toe pick caught on the ice when the jump finished and he fell. He was too close to the boards, the momentum throwing him forward, and Yuuri could only stand helplessly frozen as Viktor’s head met the side of the boards and then the ice.

Yuuri held his breath, watching, hoping. It had been too long. Viktor wasn’t moving. _Viktor wasn’t getting up._

__

Everything was fuzzy and his body felt like it was made of lead. His arms and legs shook as he slowly pushed himself up on the ice and blinked quickly downward. His head throbbed and he groaned, reaching up to touch the aching spot, only to feel the gloves on his costume dampen.

His eyes widened as  he pulled his hand away and the fingertips of his gloves were stained dark red. He was... _bleeding_? His head gave another almighty throb and he groaned again, dropping his face down into his hands on the ice. His body was still shaking and suddenly the silence around him seeped in, making his head spin.

There were hands on him, voice blurring together as he tried to make sense of where he was, what was happening. Had he been skating? Did he fall? But he knew how to fall, he knew how not to badly injure himself.

His head ached again and his thoughts vanished like smoke. The hands on his back and arms rose to his attention and he tried to understand what they were saying. They were all speaking so fast. Were they talking to him? He wasn’t sure.

“Est-ce que vous m'entendez?”

He gave a drowsy nod, mouth filled with cotton and head filled with glass. He could hardly hear anything and he just wanted to go to sleep. He was so tired. “Ne bougez pas,” the voice said softly. It sounded familiar. Pleasant.

“Restez allongé,” another, sharper voice said and Viktor groaned again, body still quivering and his head still cradled in his arms. The world was starting to spin around him and he felt sick. His eyes were so heavy and the voices were so overwhelming. Where was he?

“Monsieur Nikiforov, pouvez-vous vous lever?” the pleasant voice asked softly, close to his ear. Vikor huffed out a soft breath as he tried to gain his bearings. His legs weren’t shaking as badly as they had been and his stomach wasn’t twisting as tightly. He gave a reluctant nod and a warm hand grabbed his arm.

He could hear the two voices speaking about his neck, but he shook his head again, lifting his head and pressing his hand against the source of the throbbing. He could feel the fabric of his gloves soaking but ignored it as much as he could.

He felt hands helping him to his feet and stumbled slightly. The world was blurry and everything hurt.

“Viktor!” a beautiful voice called and Viktor’s eyes blearily looked around until they met Yuuri’s as he stood at the rink gate. “Oh, my god, Viktor!” There were tears in Yuuri’s eyes and Viktor’s heart ached.

Viktor was helped off the ice and met Yakov and Yuuri’s gazes with muddled guilt and confusion.

The silence around the rink was still cutting into him and he wanted to make some kind of noise to break it.

A hand guided him toward the exit of the rink and Yuuri followed close behind. Yakov spoke to one of the medical staff quickly, looking much more concerned than Viktor had seen him in a long time.

When Viktor turned his head again he caught sight of one of the people helping him stand and recognized her as the person he had asked for directions the previous day. That's why she sounded familiar.

The world blurred around him as they moved and his head pulsed. He was pushed into a seat and someone pulled his hand away from his head. He fought the movement for a moment before he felt something else press against the wound. He winced and hissed through his teeth. He could hear Yuuri’s frightened murmuring beside him, but wasn't sure that he was speaking in English.

The woman from the previous day gently grabbed Yuuri’s hand and placed it over the cloth on Viktor’s forehead.

“Maintenez ceci contre son fron,” she said. Yuuri blinked, glancing down to Viktor desperately before meeting the medic’s eyes again. Viktor reached up with a shaking hand and laid it over Yuuri's.

“Hold…’ere,” he said, mouth moving too slowly. Yuuri bit at his lip, glancing to Viktor with a deep frown, but pressed down anyway, holding the back of Viktor’s head gently with his free hand, fingers tangling with Viktor’s hair.

The medic smiled softly as she met Viktor’s drowsy gaze. She moved out of the way as another man walked in the room looking grim.

Everything was coming back to him and he could feel the adrenaline draining from his body, leaving him exhausted and in pain.

The doctor pulled out a light and flashed it in Viktor’s eyes. He winced.

“Suivez la lumière avec votre yeux,” he said, unfazed by Viktor’s reaction. Viktor did as he was told, allowing the doctor to do what he needed to. Once the doctor was finished conducting his tests, Viktor leaned his body into Yuuri who stood beside his chair. His head was pillowed against Yuuri’s stomach and Yuuri’s fingers were still running soothingly through his hair. “Est-ce que vous pouvez me donner votre nom?”

“Viktor Nikiforov,” he answered softly.

“Savez-vous où vous vous trouvez?”

“Le Palais Omnisport de Marseille.”

“Quelle est la date d'aujourd'hui?”

“8 Décembre 2016.”

“Is he going to be okay?” Yuuri asked, voice flirting with the line between worried and panicked.

“Oui,” the doctor said. “He has a concussion, but there doesn't appear to be any severe brain damage.”

Yuuri nodded, pulling Viktor closer to his body as he did. Viktor sighed against him, brain becoming less muddled as time went on. “He is going to need stitches for that cut, though.”

It occurred to him, belatedly, as people rushed about around him, that he wouldn't be able to skate in the rest of the Final. He might have skated in his last Grand Prix Final and he had gotten a concussion before he could finish the first event.

Maybe the world was trying to tell him something.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goooood I’m so sorry this took me forEVER to get out. I don’t know why, but this chapter was just. Really difficult for me to get out. Writing it was a challenge for sure. And I’ve been dealing with some dumb mental things and losing some hours but I managed to finish what I had planned for the chapter so that’s a start! And I’m not...wholly satisfied with every single part, but I’ll probably make edits to it at a later date. Anyway. 
> 
> Sorry?? This was part of my dastardly plans all along, so sorry if it seems like. Sudden or something. It shouldn’t???;;; Ohman.;;;; OKay so anyway. Yes. The angst express has arrived, all aboard. But I promise there’s a lot more I have planned, and a lot of it is very nice and cute because come on, it’s these two, how can i not?? I hope that you can find some way to enjoy this chapter despite my terrible, horrible misdeeds. And I hope that you’ll stick with me for more because I swear it will get better and there will be a lot more talking. 
> 
> Once again, as per usual, I’m not a figure skating, Russian, or Japanese expert, so if I made any mistakes in the text please, please let me know and I’ll fix it!! I want to make a shoutout to Chymaille for providing all the French translations for me! SO thank you again for that!!! ((I just. Love that Viktor is trilingual okay. )) 
> 
> Right. So. Next chapter will be a lot of talking, emotions, and the free skate, yay! It’s probably gonna be so long omg.;;; 
> 
> Anyway! You can come find me on my [tumblr](https://the-katuki-niliforv.tumblr.com/) if you’d like!! I don’t bite and I love talking to people! I also made some more art for this fic, because I have zero self-control. You can find that on my tumblr as well. Warning for blood, so if you'd like to avoid the blood, there is a version on my tumblr with a cut so the full image is hidden, but all posts related to it are tagged for blood and injury, ~~if you really want to see it but already have those blacklisted, you can PM me and I can show you a safe image?? I really don't think anyone is that desperate to see my art tho lmao just in case;;;~~ For a link to the entire post with the full image you can go [here](http://daiyanodumpster.tumblr.com/post/157110018257/okay-so-heres-the-full-photo-poor-viktor-new)
> 
> Translations: (I know there’s a lot today, sorry sorry;;;; )  
> Моя любовь - my love  
> солнышко - sunshine/my sunshine  
> моё золотце - my gold  
> Я тебя люблю - I love you  
> 愛してるよ - I love you  
> Ты такая красивая - You’re so beautiful  
> Oui - yes  
> mon soleil - my sun  
> mon coeur - sweetheart  
> amour de ma vie - love of my life  
> est-ce que vous m'entendez? - Can you hear me?  
> pouvez-vous vous lever? - Can you stand?  
> suivez la lumière avec votre yeux - Follow this light with your eyes  
> restez allongé - stay down  
> ne bougez pas - Don't move  
> maintenez ceci contre son front - Hold this firmly to his head  
> est-ce que vous pouvez me donner votre nom? - Do you know your name?  
> savez-vous où vous vous trouvez? - Do you know where you are?  
> quelle est la date d'aujourd'hui? - What's today's date?  
> Merci beaucoup - thank you very much
> 
> Have a safe weekend everyone and take care of yourselves!! And thank you to everyone who’s been commenting and everyone who’s left kudos, you guys just fuel my inner fire and I appreciate all of you so very much <3 
> 
> Please leave me a comment if you have a minute to spare and let me know how I’m doing!
> 
> ~JD
> 
> P.S. Idk why but the archive threw me down to the second page of the recent stories right after I updated so I'm sorry if you didn't see when this updated;;


	8. Don’t Blame Yourself and Win Gold!! Grand Prix Final Free Skate of Doom!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up, this chapter partially takes place in a hospital and briefly mentions medical procedures such as getting stitches and x-rays and such, just in case that’s no bueno for anyone <3 take care of yourselves.

Yuuri’s leg bounced as he sat in the hospital waiting room, hands covering his face as he tried to get his breathing under control. His heart was still beating too quickly and he couldn’t shake the image of Viktor lying completely still on the ice. 

The fact that the additional tests Viktor was going through were taking an eternity didn’t help either. 

“Yuuri!” Phichit shouted as quick, pounding footsteps neared him. Yuuri stood from his chair in time to have another body slam into him and grip him in a fierce hug. “Oh, my god, there you are. Are you okay? Is Viktor okay?” 

“They wouldn’t tell us anything other than which hospital they were sending him to,” Chris said from a few steps behind Phichit. 

“You must have been so scared,” Phichit whispered, squeezing Yuuri’s shoulders even tighter. “How are you?” 

“I-I...um…” Yuuri tried to arrange his thoughts but just felt his heart lurch in his chest and shook his head slightly, accepting the warm embrace Phichit held him in. He took a deep breath, focusing on keeping his voice from shaking. “They’re still doing tests on him. Brain scans and cognitive tests. That sort of thing.” 

“How bad is it?” Chris asked. Yuuri shrugged helplessly, wishing that Yakov hadn’t left to find a cup of coffee so he could field the questions instead. It was a selfish thought, but that didn’t stop the aching in his chest. 

“The doctor at the stadium said that he has a concussion, but I...I don’t know how bad it is. He needs stitches, too.” 

“ _ Merde _ ,” Chris whispered and Yuuri could just nod in agreement as he stepped away from Phichit’s arms. Phichit gave him a quick once-over with a critical glance and frowned further at what he saw. 

“The doctors are going to take great care of him, and before you know it, he’ll be done with the tests.” 

Yuuri nodded mechanically, eyes drifting back to the door they brought Viktor through as his shoulders tensed. Viktor had been gone so long as it was, what if they found something wrong? What if it was worse than the doctor initially thought? What if Viktor needed surgery? Or he lost his memory? A loud commotion down the hallway drew his attention back to the present and he turned to see Yuri and Otabek making their way toward them. Yuri was shouting, but Yuuri was fairly certain it was in Russian so he had no idea what he was saying. 

“Where is that damn old man?” Yuri asked loudly, drawing a stern sneer from the nurse at the desk across the room. 

“They’re still running tests on him in the back,” Yuuri said softly, his throat suddenly dry and tight. He could feel his shoulders hunching as he tried to make himself as small as his voice. Yuri flinched. The movement was hardly there, and Yuuri almost missed it. 

“Is he...okay?” Yuri asked, moving a step closer to Yuuri and looking uncomfortable as he seemed to search for some way to comfort him without raising any suspicion. Yuuri shrugged again, helpless and small and tired. His arms hugged his middle as he sat back down and his leg began to bounce again. 

“They haven’t told me anything since we got here,” he said. Yuri’s frowned deepened as he looked to Otabek for advice. Otabek sighed softly with a small shrug. 

“I’m sure they will tell you soon. He is probably okay,” he said. 

Yuuri nodded, though it was clear he didn’t really want to. 

“Hey, pork cutlet bowl, don’t do something stupid like blame yourself for this,” Yuri said softly as he sat down beside Yuuri quickly, leaning into his space. Yuuri felt a small shiver run up his spine as he realized that Yuri was surprisingly good at reading him despite all the effort he put into pretending not to care. “This wasn’t...anyone’s fault. It’s just a freak accident. A stupid freak accident.” 

Yuuri shrugged, biting at his lip. He knew Yuri was trying, and he knew that he had a point, but Yuuri could still feel his stomach twisting tighter and tighter into knots, nausea flooding his system in a wave of heat and pain. He just wanted to see Viktor. He just wanted Viktor to be okay. He felt his friends’ eyes on his back, but couldn’t bring himself to meet their gazes. 

Moments of tense silence passed as Phichit made his way to Yuuri’s other side and leaned on his shoulder, offering whatever support he could and Yuuri wanted to smile or thank him, but his tongue was made of sandpaper and his throat was completely closed. 

“Monsieur Katsuki?” a doctor called as she opened the heavy doors beside the nurse station. Yuuri jumped to his feet and nodded, walking as quickly as possible toward her, as if she wouldn’t see him if he took too long. “Please follow me,” she said, turning and leading Yuuri down a series of hallways. 

“Is...is Viktor going to be okay?” 

The doctor’s lips pursed slightly as she nodded. 

“He should be,” was all she said. Yuuri could feel himself beginning to shake again. When they entered a small, well-lit room and Yuuri saw Viktor sitting on one of the beds looking glum but definitely conscious and relatively okay, the relief that rushed through him made his vision blur and his head spin. 

“Viktor,” he breathed, drawing his attention up immediately. As soon as his head whipped over to Yuuri he winced and groaned, dropping his head into his hand with a weak sigh. Yuuri’s feet were moving before he could process what was happening, and in a blink he was at Vikor’s side, hands fluttering about his shoulders and face, unsure what to do with them. 

“He has a concussion, but it doesn’t look like he has any excessive bleeding or swelling. He will still need to be observed for the next twenty-four hours. I’d like to keep him here for another hour or so, since he did lose consciousness, but after that point I am willing to allow him to be observed by a caregiver outside of the hospital.” 

“I can take care of him,” Yuuri assured her, and the doctor just nodded with a small smile.

“Yuuri, you have to focus on the Final, you—” 

“I can’t focus on skating if I’m worried about you. I can do this, it’s fine.” 

“You need to rest, physically and mentally for the next two weeks or so,” the doctor said, turning her attention to Viktor. “Until your symptoms begin to lessen, avoid too many physical and concentration-heavy activities. You can get back into skating gradually, but if anything begins to aggravate your symptoms you  _ must  _ stop and rest.”

“Je comprends ,” Viktor said, voice flat and empty. Yuuri’s hand settled on his back, as if trying to physically lighten his tone. Viktor leaned back into the touch, still frowning, but his shoulders relaxed slightly and Yuuri’s throat opened up enough to let him take a deep breath and make his hands stop trembling so badly. 

“Because you lost consciousness, you will likely experience symptoms like headaches, dizziness, and trouble concentrating for longer than you would have with a less severe concussion.” 

Viktor nodded again, leaning further into Yuuri’s touch. Yuuri felt his heart leap into his throat as Viktor let his body droop against his side. Had Viktor passed out? Was something wrong? Was he breathing? 

Viktor’s hand reached up to grasp Yuuri’s fingers and run his thumb over Yuuri’s knuckles with a deep sigh. Yuuri’s body relaxed slightly as he looked down to see Viktor’s eyes still open and locked on the doctor. “Fatigue is a normal symptom of a concussion, and you will probably feel excessively drowsy and fatigued for another day or so. I recommend getting as much sleep as possible to help your brain heal quickly.” 

Viktor nodded again, sighing and closing his eyes as he squeezed Yuuri’s hand. 

“What should I do to make sure nothing is getting worse over the next day?” Yuuri asked, pulling Viktor as close as he could without jostling him. “Is he allowed to sleep?” 

“Yes, he can sleep, but you should wake him up regularly through the night to make sure that he awakens normally. Monsieur Nikiforov should inform you if any of his symptoms get worse, because they may be signs of a worse or even fatal condition.”  

“F-fatal?” 

“Yes, it is uncommon, but not unheard of. This is primarily precautionary.” 

“Okay,” Yuuri whispered, nodding robotically. “Um, is his hip okay?” Yuuri asked, remembering the way Viktor’s form had looked when he went into his lutz. His hip was stiff. This happened because of his hip being stiff, and whenever Yuuri’s thoughts circled back to that fact he felt cold and overwhelmingly guilty. “He has arthritis.” 

“Yes, he let me know. I did an x-ray and nothing is broken or out of place. The bone contact may be a concern soon, but I recommend extending your warm-up time once you’re healed and doing some light, low-impact exercises like yoga every day to increase mobility and reduce any stiffness that may arise. Getting as much fluid into the joint as possible will also help to decrease pain and make skating and your everyday activities much easier.” 

Yuuri nodded as he took note of the information the doctor was giving them. Viktor let out a breathy groan as he turned his face into Yuuri’s chest and held him tighter. “I understand this is a lot of information, so I’ll let you rest for a while, Monsieur Nikiforov. Monsieur Katsuki, please follow me to the hallway for a moment.”  

Yuuri nodded, squeezing Viktor's hand before untangling their bodies and following the doctor into the hallway. Yuuri shut the door slowly to minimize the noise it would make, leaning his head onto the sturdy surface to take a calming breath. He nodded before turning around and smiling as convincingly as he could at the doctor. “He’ll need to keep his stitches dry for the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours. After that point, cleaning them with some soap and water should be fine. Short showers are alright, but he should avoid swimming at all until they're fully healed.”

“Okay, that shouldn't be a problem.” 

“For any pain he experiences give him something like acetaminophen, or Doliprane. Ibuprofen and similar medications are also blood thinners, so while they work well for soothing arthritis pain they can increase the risk of bleeding in his brain.” 

“Right, okay, that's good to know. He's really okay to leave today? He doesn't need to stay here for observation overnight or anything?” Yuuri asked again, twisting his fingers together. The doctor smiled softly, nodding. 

“Yes. He's relatively aware and his balance is better than I expected, even for a figure skater. He’s very lucky. I don't believe that it should be a problem, but if anything seems off or strange, don't hesitate to bring him back.” 

Yuuri nodded again, glancing back at the door every few seconds and drawing a little laugh from the doctor. “You can go back in, I'll leave you two for a bit, and I'll do my final assessment in about an hour.” 

“We have some friends in the waiting room,” Yuuri said as he reached for the doorknob. “Would they be able to see him?” 

“Sure, but they shouldn’t stay for too long so he can rest.”

Yuuri nodded with a smile before pushing the door open and taking in Viktor’s small, exhausted form. He laid curled up on the bed with his arms tucked against his chest and his legs bent. His eyes were gently closed and Yuuri tip-toed toward him, taking the extra chair beside the bed. 

His fingers found Viktor’s soft, tangled hair and ran through it soothingly. He carefully avoided touching the bruising or stitches on Viktor’s forehead, doing his best to do so without looking either. Every time his eyes caught on the dark discolored skin his stomach twisted and he couldn't breathe. Viktor was in so much pain and there was nothing Yuuri could do to make it better. 

“Yuuri,” Viktor breathed, eyes peeking open and a pout forming on his lips. “My head hurts.” 

Yuuri smiled sympathetically, lips wobbling dangerously. His fingers ran through Viktor’s hair faster. 

“I know. I wish I could make it better.” 

Viktor was silent for a few long minutes as he opened his eyes slowly and surveyed the room and Yuuri’s face. 

“You should really focus on practicing for the free skate tomorrow. You shouldn't have to...have to take care of me. I’m...I’m fine, and I'm sure someone else could—” 

“Viktor,” Yuuri interrupted, using every shred of his willpower to keep his voice from shaking. “Please just...please let me do this for you. Please just let me do this.” his voice was trembling by the end anyway, his head tilted down to hide his rapidly blurring eyes with his hair. He bit his lip to keep in a small sob that he had been holding in since the moment he saw Viktor’s body crumple to the ice. 

“Oh, Yuuri,” Viktor whispered, blearily reaching his hand up to find Yuuri’s own still buried in his hair. 

“I won’t be able to think about skating if I’m worried about how you are or-or who’s taking care of you. I need to do this, please let me take care of you.” He kept his head bowed down to Viktor, feeling the way Viktor’s hand was trembling in his hold. Tears were falling freely into his lap and down his cheeks, but he knew there was no point in trying to stop them. 

“Солнышко, look at me.” 

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri said, shaking his head and squeezing Viktor’s hand. “I-I know that I should be focusing, and I know that I promised that I would win gold if you coached me for another year, b-but I don’t know how you expect me to just leave you alone and skate when you’re in pain like this. I-I’m sorry. I know that it’s s-selfish, a-and Yakov could probably watch over you, but I—”

“Yuuri, please look at me,” Viktor whispered, voice strained and drawing Yuuri’s eyes up reluctantly. Viktor reached out with his free hand to dazedly run his thumb over Yuuri’s cheeks, collecting teardrops as they fell and frowning. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. Yuuri’s heart stopped as he frantically tore his hand from Viktor’s and tried to wave Viktor’s thoughts away. 

“No, no, this isn’t your fault, you have nothing to apologize for.” 

“Yes I do, I didn’t think about how you might be feeling about this. I’m sorry, Yuuri,” he said. Yuuri didn’t move, he just stared at Viktor’s drowsy gaze and felt his heart hammering in his chest. “You must have been so scared.” Viktor’s fingers left barely-there trails of warmth down Yuuri’s cheek as he spoke and all Yuuri could do in response was nod. 

“You weren’t moving, you-you wouldn’t get up.” 

“I’m sorry, моё золотце.” 

Yuuri shook his head, leaning in and pushing his face into Viktor’s neck and holding him tightly, fingers tangling in the hair at the back of his head. Viktor wrapped his arms around Yuuri’s shoulders, nose pressed into his soft, black hair. 

“I thought you were gone.” 

Viktor just nodded, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of Yuuri’s head. 

“I’m okay. Все будет хорошо.” 

“I don’t want to leave you alone.” 

“Shh, mon soleil. I know, it’s okay.”

Yuuri took a few minutes to gather his thoughts, calming down quickly because he was surrounded by Viktor’s comforting warmth. 

“Stop showing off, you’re supposed to be resting your mind,” he finally whispered, lips dragging on Viktor’s skin before he pulled away to look over his partner’s face. Viktor just gave him a soft smile. Yuuri smiled back, sniffling and wiping at his eyes and face quickly. “Some of the others are in the waiting room. Do you want to see them? You can just go back to sleep if you want to.” 

“They can come in. I’m sure Yurio is worried. Chris, too.” 

“Okay, I’ll go get them. I’ll be right back, I promise. Just relax.” 

Viktor nodded slowly, watching Yuuri leave. 

Yuuri closed the door behind him slowly before walking down the hallway toward the waiting room. When he opened the door, all four pairs of eyes turned to him. The group was on its feet as soon as they saw him. He waved them over and lead them through the door. 

Phichit’s hand landed on Yuuri’s shoulder quickly and a pinched sort of concern overcame his face. 

“Yuuri, have you been crying? Is...is Viktor okay?” he asked. Yuuri reached up to scrub at his eyes again frantically, only succeeding in making the redness around them worse. 

“No, no, Viktor’s okay. That’s not why I…” 

“What did that old man do now?” Yuri growled, eyes narrowed. Otabek reached out to hold his shoulder, as if preparing to hold him back should he lunge or attack, both of which were unlikely. At least, Yuuri hoped they were. 

“It’s nothing, it’s not his fault.” 

“Is he going to be okay?” Otabek asked. Yuuri nodded quickly. 

“He should be fine, I’m overreacting. The doctor didn’t even seem that concerned.” 

“It was intense at the rink,” Chris said, resting his hand on Yuuri’s other shoulder as Phichit had yet to remove his own hand. “It’s okay to be emotional about it.” 

“You love him, it would be strange if you  _ weren’t  _ worried, right?” Otabek asked bluntly, making a faint heat rise on Yuuri’s cheeks as he nodded. 

When they neared Viktor’s room, Yuuri turned to face his friends and sighed softly. 

“He has a pretty bad concussion and he’s obviously not feeling great, so being quiet is the most important thing, okay?” he asked, eyes glancing between Yuri and Phichit. Chris smirked. The group nodded and Yuuri gently pushed the door open. “He has to stay for another hour or so before they’ll release him.” 

Viktor was sitting up when they entered and Yuuri felt a put-out sigh leave his lips as their eyes met, but Viktor just smiled at him innocently. 

“Ça a l'air grave,” Chris said with a small hiss of sympathy, walking closer to Viktor in order to inspect the wound. Viktor smiled tiredly. 

“Ça fait sûrement encore plus mal que ça en a l'air,” Viktor responded, drawing a quiet, annoyed sigh from Yuuri’s lips, which he also promptly ignored. Chris laughed, shaking his own head and staring at the bruise again. 

“Ça va aller?” 

To Chris’ question, Viktor just nodded slowly, still wincing at the movement and reaching up to gently hold his head. 

“I’ll be fine,” he said after a moment. Yuri looked pained as concern and anger fought for dominance on his face. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Phichit said. “You really scared us.” 

Viktor laughed, closing his eyes and shooting Phichit a winning smile. 

“Sorry about that.” 

Yuri clicked his tongue, anger finally settling into its usual place on his young face. 

“Don’t apologize for something like that, old man. It’s not your fault, people worry, it’s what they do. You’re not supposed to apologize for it,” he seethed, glare set on Viktor’s eyes as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Idiot.”

“Aww, you do care, Yurio,” Viktor chimed, making Yuri gag and roll his eyes. 

“Don’t put words in my mouth, you damn geezer.” 

Viktor laughed again. He seemed to flourish in the presence of his friends. Yuuri’s chest swelled with warmth at the bright, if not very tired, expression adorning Viktor’s face as he chatted with the group. 

After a while, he started to look a little green, though. He still smiled, but Yuuri could tell he was getting tired and possibly nauseous judging by the pallor of his skin. He was about to usher the group out the door when it clicked open and Yakov stepped inside with a sour expression. 

“What are you all doing in here? He needs to rest, you can talk to him later,” he said, voice stern and grouchy. Yuuri had assumed he got caught up somewhere in the hospital when he hadn’t seen him in the waiting room with the others, but he had no idea what he could have been doing.

Phichit and Chris walked to the door quickly, bidding Yakov farewell and waving to Yuuri and Viktor before exiting into the hallway. 

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Yuri told Viktor before glaring at him and stomping out of the room. Otabek spared them a small smile and a wave before following after him quickly. Yakov watched them go with a glance before turning to Viktor. “Vitya, lie down,” he commanded. Viktor obeyed without a work, lying across the bed with a grimace. 

“I feel sick,” he said softly. Yuuri frowned, glancing to Yakov before grabbing a waste bin beside the door and setting it by Viktor’s bed. He ran his hand over Viktor’s hair slowly, moving his other hand to rest on Viktor’s side. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“It was fun talking to them.” 

“You have a serious injury, you need to say something when you start to feel sick or dizzy or  _ anything _ ,” Yuuri said, trying not to scold him, but finding it more difficult than he expected as he looked into Viktor’s eyes. 

“Прости.” 

Yuuri shook his head, leaning down to kiss the top of Viktor’s head. 

“Just get some sleep, and tell me if you feel worse.” 

__

There were gentle fingers in his hair and a warm palm on his cheek as he rose to consciousness. 

“Viktor, the doctor is here,” Yuuri whispered, his voice soft and close to Viktor’s ear. Viktor sighed, blinking his eyes open with a soft groan at the bright lights above him. “Just a little bit longer, then we can go back to the hotel and you can sleep some more.” 

Yuuri’s hands helped him sit up and held him gently as the world spun wildly around him once he was vertical. He squeezed his eyes shut with a huff, silently begging for the room to stop swirling and twisting. 

“Vertigo is another common symptom in the first couple days, but it shouldn’t last very long,” the doctor told him. Viktor nodded, peeking his eyes open as the room righted itself slowly, Yuuri’s still arms were comforting weights on his shoulders. 

“Are you feeling nauseous? Do you have a headache?” the doctor asked and Viktor frowned, trying to take stock of how his body felt. 

“Just a headache,” he said after a long moment, meeting the doctor's eyes. She nodded, shining a light in his eyes and frowning in sympathy when he winced. 

“Your pupils appear to be stabilizing now, they're almost the same size,” she said. “You also awoke fairly easily a moment ago, which is a good sign.” 

“Does that mean he’s okay to leave? Should he stay a bit longer just to make sure?” Yuuri asked, making Viktor smirk as one of Yuuri’s hands moved from his shoulder to run through the hair on the back of his head. 

“He should be okay to go, I'd like to conduct a few more tests, but his mild symptoms are promising,” she said before turning to Viktor. “Monsieur Nikiforov, do you remember anything about the accident?”

Viktor bit  his lip before shrugging. 

“Not really. I don't really remember any of my program before it, either. I remember watching Yuuri and getting ready to go on the ice, but nothing after that until the medics were helping me off the ice.” 

“That's not surprising, don't focus too much on trying to remember, just rest your mind as much as possible.” 

“Okay,” Viktor said, not sure that he really wanted to remember the event anyway. The rest of the tests went by in a blur and by the end, Viktor felt like his head was spinning and his body felt like it would drop at any moment. 

“You’ll just need to sign your release forms now, but I believe that you should be okay to go with your petit ami. But again if anything concerns you, you can come back.” 

Yuuri nodded, thanking the doctor as she exited the room. Yuuri’s fingers still tangled with his hair and Viktor laughed softly, pushing back into the comforting touch. 

“You really are more affectionate when I’m injured. Is this what it takes to get the love of my life to touch me?” 

Yuuri’s fingers froze in Viktor’s hair, and Viktor almost worried that he had hurt his feelings again, when Yuuri started to shake against him, hiding a laugh in his hair. 

“ _ Viktor _ ,” he laughed. “You can’t just  _ say  _ that.” 

“Why not? I just want my Yuuri to touch me—” 

Yuuri’s lips cut off Viktor’s thought and he just smiled, closing his eyes and letting himself focus solely on the feeling of Yuuri’s warmth, and Yuuri’s hands on his back. 

“What am I going to do with you?” Yuuri asked as he pulled away and bumped their noses together. Viktor smirked and leaned in to peck his lips one more time. 

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” 

Yuuri laughed again, and the sound made Viktor’s heart leap in his chest, his stomach swirling in the best way and his head light. He never thought that feeling lightheaded would be a good thing, but looking at Yuuri laughing so freely made him realize it was the best thing he could have felt. 

“I’ll go call home, I’m sure they’re worried about you. Yakov went back to the hotel to let everyone else know what’s going on. You can go sign the forms for the doctor, and I’ll meet you over there.” 

Viktor nodded, bracing himself for the rush of cold as Yuuri pulled away from him and made his way to the door. Once he was gone, Viktor curled his shoulders in and took a slow breath. He would be okay, he had to be. Yuuri needed for him to be okay. So he would be. 

__

When Yuuri hung up the phone with his mother, he let out a sigh of relief, making his way toward the nurse’s station to find Viktor. Once his eyes landed on Viktor, Yuuri couldn’t help but sigh. Viktor was leaning on a wall near the nurse’s station with his phone up to his face. 

“Viktor,” he scolded, snatching the phone from Viktor’s surprisingly pliant grip. “You’re not supposed to be reading or looking at screens.” Yuuri looked down at the screen and let his shoulders droop slightly as he read the text Viktor had been composing. 

**01:41 New Text to: Chris**

_ <I’m sorry I couldn’t give you the competition you w> _

The text was incomplete and Yuuri’s eyes drifted up from the screen of Viktor’s phone to his downturned eyes. “Viktor?” 

Viktor’s responding laugh was empty and it sent a hot sense of wrongness flooding through Yuuri’s entire body. 

“Let’s go back to the hotel, солнышко.” 

“Are you—?” 

“Yuuri, let’s go.” 

He was begging, Yuuri realized. The desperation in Viktor’s eyes knocked the breath out of him, and all Yuuri could do was nod. They hailed a cab and rode in silence. Viktor looked fragile, more so than he had all evening, and Yuuri’s mind spiraled out of his control the longer the silence between them lasted. 

By the time they arrived at the hotel, all the calmness that Yuuri felt with Viktor in the hospital had abandoned his body and his skin felt as if it were getting tighter, too small for his body. His body hurt. 

Viktor followed Yuuri in silence, steps uncoordinated as he stumbled through the lobby. He leaned on Yuuri in the elevator, eyes closed and breaths too quick. He didn’t speak, so neither did Yuuri. 

Yuuri’s head was spinning. Everything had seemed fine, what happened? What was that text about? What was Viktor not telling him? What would happen if Yuuri pushed him? He needed to rest, Yuuri should just leave it, but what if not talking about it just made Viktor feel that much worse? What was he supposed to do? 

When they got to their room, Yuuri was sure that Viktor would just collapse on the bed and go to sleep without a word, but instead he sat on the foot of it and stared down at his feet. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. 

“I told you, you don’t have anything to apologize for.” 

“I let you down,” Viktor said, as if Yuuri hadn’t spoken at all. “I...I can’t compete against you in the Final, and I’m worrying you, and I’m not taking care of my hip well enough. I disappointed you.” 

“What are you talking about? I never said I was disappointed,’ Yuuri said, kneeling down in front of Viktor and taking his hands into his own. 

“You didn’t have to.” 

“Viktor, I’m not disappointed. I care about you for more than your skating.” 

VIktor shook his head, refusing to meet Yuuri’s eyes as he laid back on the bed and pulled his hands out of Yuuri’s gentle grip. He pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes and sighed softly. His breath quivered as it left his lips and Yuuri waited for him to say something, heart pounding. 

“I let everyone down.” 

“No, you didn’t, what are you talking about?” 

“I tried to come back to skating and failed. I should have just stayed retired. I should have listened to Yakov, he was right. That should have been the end of my career. I shouldn’t have tried.” 

“Viktor, that’s not true. You’re just getting back into it, bumps and mistakes are expected.” Yuuri could see Viktor falling apart piece by piece before his eyes and his heart was slamming so hard against his ribs that he was sure there would be a bruise. He wanted to reach out, to soothe him somehow, but he was at a loss of where to even begin. Viktor’s voice startled him out of his thoughts and he looked to Viktor’s still-covered face. 

“How long do you honestly believe I can keep skating? I’m almost twenty-nine, and my body is giving out on me. I had, what, maybe three seasons left when I decided to come back last year? And now I can’t finish the final. I might be ready to skate again by the Russian Nationals, but is it even worth it? What’s the point of someone as old as me skating anyway?” he asked. “I’m just...too old.” 

“No, you’re not. You don’t believe that.” 

“Yes, I do, Yuuri. It’s true, you know that it’s true so don’t deny it.” 

“Viktor, you’re not too old to skate.” 

“You’re only saying that to make me feel better. I don’t want you to lie to spare my feelings.” 

“Where did this come from?” Yuuri finally asked, pushing himself to his feet and walking around the bed to look down at Viktor’s face from a better angle. Viktor didn’t answer him, shaking his head and pressing his hands harder against his eyes. “Viktor—” Yuuri cut himself off as he saw the small tears that dripped down the side of Viktor’s face. 

Viktor seemed to become aware of the tears at the same time Yuuri did, because he pressed his hands harder against his skin, fingers digging into his forehead. Yuuri crawled onto the bed, settling beside him and grabbing onto Viktor’s wrists. “Viktor, stop, you’re going to hurt yourself or-or pull out your stitches.” 

Viktor shook his head and turned his face away from Yuuri, but let him pull his hands away from his face. 

“Just forget I said anything.” 

“Stop deflecting, talk to me.” Yuuri wished that his voice didn’t betray just how scared he was, but he pushed forward, laying his hands over Viktor’s shoulders and leaned down to press a kiss to the top of his head. Viktor sniffled, but didn’t say anything as his shoulders relaxed slightly. 

“What if that was it? What if I should have stayed retired?” he asked after a prolonged silence.

“Viktor, I know that you can do more, I know that you can come back from this, everything will be okay.” 

“What if it’s not?” 

Yuuri fleetingly thought about how familiar Viktor’s words sounded, how much he reminded him of himself. 

“Then there’s nothing wrong with that, but you still want to try, right? Don’t you want to see if you can surpass everything you’ve already accomplished? Even if you can’t, what would be wrong with that?” 

“I’ll let everyone down. I don’t want to disappoint anyone.” 

“Viktor, you’re not going to disappoint anyone.” 

“I’m tired,” Vikor answered, and Yuuri sighed, relenting and sliding off the bed. 

“You should get some sleep. I’m going to shower, I’ll be back in a few minutes.” 

Viktor nodded, closing his eyes and sliding under the covers without another word. Yuuri frowned, but left him alone, slipping into the bathroom. 

__

Viktor felt something wet sliding over his face and winced, sliding his eyes open to see their hotel room dimly lit and Yuuri standing in front of him. He had a wash cloth in his hand and was running it over Viktor’s face. 

“Sorry, I thought it might be nice to at least get the last of...everything out of your hair. I’m almost done, you can go back to sleep.” 

“Thank you, Yuuri,” Viktor whispered, eyes darting over Yuuri’s face and heart fluttering. Yuuri smiled, leaning in to kiss the tip of Viktor’s nose. Viktor wanted to apologize for falling apart. He wanted to apologize for making Yuuri worry when he already had so much to think about. He wanted to tell Yuuri how much he loved him, but his tongue was numb and his jaw was heavy, eyes drooping without his permission. It was so hard to stay awake with the gentle movement of the cloth on his skin and sweet scent of Yuuri’s soap. 

He eventually gave in a succumbed to sleep. 

__

Yuuri barely slept that night, too worried that he wouldn’t be able to wake up and check on Viktor. He knew he was difficult to wake from time to time, and he was petrified that it would affect Viktor’s health. 

He leaned over on the bed and ran his fingers gently over Viktor’s cheek a final time as the mid-morning sunlight peeked in through the curtains and lit up Viktor’s face. Viktor hummed, moving his cheek into Yuuri’s touch. 

“Yakov texted me, everyone is going to the rink in an hour.” 

“You should go, too,” Viktor murmured, eyes blinking open slowly. Yuuri pursed his lips. 

“How are you feeling?” 

Viktor shrugged, rubbing at his eyes before looking Yuuri over again. 

“A little like I was attacked by a bear.” 

“Do you want to sleep some more?” 

“No, I want to go with you to the rink.” 

“Viktor, I don’t think that’s a very good idea, you should be resting.” 

“I can sit down at the rink. I don’t want your program to suffer because you were worrying about me too much to practice.” 

“You know that I’ll worry either way.” 

Viktor nodded and shrugged, slowly sitting up and stumbling around the room to collect a presentable outfit. Yuuri bought a package of Doliprane at the pharmacy around the corner from the hotel before he and Viktor set off toward the rink. 

Even with earplugs, sunglasses and a full dose of Doliprane, Viktor was only able to last two hours before it was obvious that he felt too awful to stay. Yuuri waved off Yakov’s offer to take him back to the hotel so Yuuri could practice more since Mila needed to prepare just as much as he did. 

“Yuuri, you should stay, you should practice more. Don’t worry about me.” 

“I agreed to take care of you, and I’m going to stick by that. You’re my coach, and my partner, and I’m going to make sure that you’re okay.” 

Viktor looked like he was about to argue, but winced instead, groaning and dropping his head into his hands. “Come on, you should lie down.” 

Viktor followed willingly, still looking guilty and upset, but letting Yuuri guide him up to their room and into the bed. He fell asleep almost instantly, and Yuuri just smiled as he turned most of the lights out and pulled the curtains. 

__

“Where’s Viktor?” Phichit asked as he stood at Yuuri’s side the next night, looking around the room curiously. 

“He went to the bathroom and told me to keep warming up.” 

“Do you think he’s okay?” 

Yuuri nodded, still feeling worry bubbling up in his stomach, but doing his absolute best to ignore it. He promised to win gold, he told Viktor that he would be good enough to win gold. He couldn’t let him down.

“Welcome to the Senior Men’s Grand Prix Final Free Skate. We have five skaters tonight. Unfortunately, Viktor Nikiforov will not be able to compete tonight due to an injury he sustained in the short program two nights ago. But his coach has assured us that he will be okay.” 

Yuuri swallowed thickly as the crowd cheered. “We have also be informed that he will still be with us tonight as Yuuri Katsuki’s coach.” 

Yuuri had fought Viktor about letting him continue to coach him, but Viktor had been too stubborn. Or maybe Yuuri just wasn’t stubborn enough. 

At the very least, Yuuri was glad he would be able to watch over him throughout the competition instead of being worried about him sitting in the hotel room. 

Seung-gil stepped onto the ice and Yuuri smiled, nudging Phichit’s shoulder with his own. 

“His quad loop is incredible, isn’t it?” 

Phichit grinned back with a nod. 

“He’s really great. I’m sure he’ll be even better by Four Continents.” 

Yuuri nodded. Two arms slipped around his waist and he jumped, turning his head and immediately relaxing as Viktor’s smiling face greeted him. He wore a pair of dark sunglasses and a borrowed pair of earplugs, clearly fairing better than the day before. 

“How are you feeling?” 

“Okay. Tired.” 

“You could have stayed at the hotel and slept.” 

“But I’m your coach. Don’t you want me to watch you skate?” 

“Of course I do, but I would rather you were trying to get better.” 

“I’m fine,” Viktor said, dropping his chin to Yuuri’s shoulder and pressing a soft kiss to his neck and grinning against Yuuri’s skin when he felt it heat up. “Though my hip is acting up a bit.” 

“Do you need to sit down?” 

“No, it’s fine, Yuuri. It’s probably just swollen. I’ll rest after you skate.” 

“Will you two be at the banquet?” Phichit asked, his phone out, but not pointed at them, at least not yet. 

“I don’t know if Viktor should—” 

“Of course, Yuuri should have fun. Especially after this Final.” 

“Viktor, I really don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

“We’ll talk about it later.” 

Phichit seemed to sense the tension between them, snapping a picture to draw their attention and grinning innocently once Yuuri settled a glare on him. 

“The score for Seung-gil Lee is 189.97. His final score is 289.76.” 

Chris stepped on the ice to wild applause and Yuuri could feel Viktor smiling against his neck. 

“He does draw quite a crowd, doesn’t he?” Viktor hummed. 

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” 

Phichit left Yuuri’s side soon after Chris started his program. Yuuri could feel the nerves start to crawl under his skin even as Viktor held him tighter. He took a deep breath. He needed to show Viktor what he was capable of. He needed to show Viktor that he didn’t need to worry about him, that he could trust in him.

“The score for Christophe Giacometti is 203.31. His total score is 304.18.” 

When Phichit passed by Chris, Yuuri could see them grin at each other on the TV screen, clapping each other on the back before Phichit stepped onto the ice. 

“I’m going to have to watch out for him.” 

“We all will, he’s improving incredibly quickly.” 

“I’m proud of him.” 

Viktor squeezed his middle again and Yuuri smiled softly, leaning his head on top of Viktor’s. 

“The score for Phichit Chulanont is 206.50. His total score is 307.86.” 

Viktor guided Yuuri toward the rink as Otabek stepped onto the ice and Yuuri caught Phichit as he was leaving the Kiss and Cry, grabbing him in a tight hug. 

“That was the best I’ve ever seen you skate,” Yuuri said as Phichit laughed into his shoulder. 

“Thanks, Yuuri. I’m excited to see you skate, too.” 

“I won’t let you down,” Yuuri said as he pulled away and held Phichit’s shoulders seriously. Phichit just smiled. 

“You never do.” Phichit hugged him again before pulling away to run toward Celestino at the doors. 

Viktor’s hand landed on his back and Yuuri turned to smile up at him. His fingers were shaking as he took in the noise and brightness of the rink. He stayed quiet, though, as he pushed Yuuri toward the boards to watch the end of Otabek’s program. 

Otabek’s form was always strong and sure as he danced over the ice. He finished his final jump as Yuuri leaned on the boards, enraptured. He couldn’t keep himself from smiling as Otabek moved into his final pose. He threw his fist in the air when he was done, a quiet celebration as he skated a lap around the ice. 

He stooped down to lift a teddy bear with a pair of cat ears crudely sewn onto the top of it’s head. He held it with a tiny smile, making his way to the rink gate. Yuuri watched as Yuri ran up and high-fived Otabek as he stepped off the ice. Otabek held up the stuffed bear and Yuri did his best not to laugh, but a smile and a small chuckle still escaped. 

“The score for Otabek Altin is 190.78. His total score is 299.34.” 

Yuuri stepped on the ice with a small sigh, breathing slowly and leaning on the boards to collect himself. Vikor’s fingers linked with his, drawing his attention up to Viktor’s soft, genuine smile. 

“I believe in you, Yuuri,” he said. Yuuri nodded, squeezing Viktor’s hand before pushing off the boards and making a round of the rink to let the chilly air of the rink calm him down and cool his face. 

“Our last skater of the night is Yuuri Katsuki, who is in first place after the short program. Viktor Nikiforov is here coaching him today despite his injury. That’s dedication!” 

Yuuri ignored the noises around him and set himself up in his starting pose at center ice. 

As soon as his music started, Yuuri focused on his program. The program that Viktor made for him. He pushed off into a camel spin, linking his fingers behind his back and dropped into a sit spin. 

“He has four quads planned for this program. And he’ll start off with one of his favorites, a quad toe-loop.” 

_ “Hey mom,” Yuuri said into the phone at the hospital, biting his lip.  _

_ “Yuuri, we’ve been so worried. We saw it on TV. Is Vicchan okay? Are you both okay?”  _

_ “Yeah, mom, Viktor’s fine. He has a concussion and he needed a few stitches, but he’s okay.”  _

_ “How are you?”  _

_ “I’m...I’m okay. I’m still a little shaken.”  _

_ “That’s okay, we were all so scared when it happened. I’m glad that Vicchan is okay. Tell him that we love him and we hope he feels better soon.”  _

_ “I will.”  _

_ “Take good care of him, and get some sleep, okay?”  _

_ “Okay. Thanks, mom.”  _

_ “We’ll be watching your free skate, too. You’ll do great.” _

_ Yuuri just laughed softly, whispering his thanks again. “I love you, Yuuri.”  _

_ “I love you, too, mom.”  _

“Gorgeous quad toe.” 

Yuuri sighed softly as he moved into his step sequence. His worry was bubbling up in the pit of his stomach. Were the ear plugs Viktor had enough to block out the applause and the sound of the commentators over the speakers? Was he feeling okay? 

His step sequence was ending, and his heart was skipping in his chest. He had been planning this jump change for weeks and he was ready. He hoped that Viktor wouldn’t be angry with him. 

__

Yuuri was ethereal as he skated across the ice. Viktor felt like his breath had been sapped from his lungs as he watched the way Yuuri’s body moved. 

“And now he has a quad-triple combination.” 

_ The doctor had looked Viktor over critically as she finished stitching the cut on his forehead.  _

_ “You’re extremely lucky,” she said. “Your symptoms are mild for the kind of concussion you sustained.”  _

_ Viktor nodded slowly, clenching his teeth. “I know that you probably don’t feel lucky right now, but this injury could have been much worse. You could have been stopped from skating the rest of the season.”  _

_ “I don’t really have many more seasons left in me anyway,” Viktor said with a weak laugh, which the doctor pursed her lips at.  _

_ “That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be glad this injury wasn’t worse.”  _

_ Viktor nodded, wincing softly.  _

_ “I want my partner to be here, can he come back now?”  _

_ The doctor frowned, looking him over carefully before nodding. Viktor just wanted her eyes off him. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep himself together under her stare. _

“Quadruple sal—wait! He changed the quadruple salchow to a quadruple flip! And a perfect triple toe-loop following it. That would make two quad flips in the second half of his program!” 

Viktor’s eyes were wide as he watched Yuuri move into another quick spin, body moving so fluidly. He was smiling so wide that his cheeks ached. He could almost forget the way his head throbbed as he watched the way Yuuri moved. 

“And now a triple combination.” 

__

His heart was beating wildly in his chest, a smile tugging at his cheeks as his body moved easily with the music. It was getting easier as the end of his program drew closer. He would be able to check on Viktor soon. He would be able to see him, see the look on his face. Was he happy? Was he angry? 

_ Yakov had stood beside Yuuri’s chair in silence for close to ten minutes before he cleared his throat and drew Yuuri’s attention to his cold expression.  _

_ “He got too close to the boards during his step sequence. He didn’t warm his hip up long enough and it was too stiff. This was just an accident.”  _

_ Yuuri didn’t respond, frowning into his hands and shaking his legs. He shrugged one shoulder as he glanced away after holding Yakov’s gaze for another moment. “Vitya’s very strong. He’ll be fine.”  _

_ “He hit the boards so hard.”  _

_ “He’s too stubborn to get a season-ending injury before the European Championships.”  _

_ Yuuri laughed softly, shaking his head and running his fingers through his hair.  _

_ “What if he needs surgery?”  _

_ “His symptoms would have been worse at the rink if the injury was that bad. Or he would have stayed unconscious.”  _

_ Yuuri nodded slowly. Yakov was right, he knew that, but his stomach was still in knots. “Vitya’s too strong to go out like this.”  _

“Triple axel, triple toe-loop. Absolutely gorgeous.” 

Could Viktor see how much Yuuri loved him? Could Viktor feel his worry? How much Yuuri cared about him? Did he understand why Yuuri wanted to stay by his side? Could he see it? Did he know?

“Quadruple salchow, truly captivating.  _ This  _ is the Yuuri Katsuki we saw at last year’s Grand Prix Final. Amazing.” 

Yuuri’s body was practically moving on it’s own as his mind flooded with thoughts and fears and worries, with Viktor. He had to show Viktor that he was going to keep his promise. He had to prove that Yuuri was worth all the work and the tears he’s put into coaching him. 

He had to convince him to keep skating, to finish the season at least. He couldn’t stand the thought of Viktor giving up the season just because of his injury, just because it was hard. Just because he had failed. 

“His final jump is another quadruple flip, a jump that is slowly becoming his own signature as well as his coach’s.” 

He was so close. He would be able to hold Viktor close to him soon. He would be able to see his reaction soon. 

He dug his toe pick into the ice and kicked off the ice, twisting his body. “A gorgeous quad flip! All of his jumps were successful! What a gorgeous program from Yuuri Katsuki!” 

Yuuri pushed off into another camel spin before moving into his final pose, breathing hard and immediately looking toward the rink gate. Viktor stood with a wide grin on his face and his arms open. Yuuri skated forward quickly, smiling and grabbing Viktor in a tight, gentle hug. 

“Yuuri, that was incredible. I’m so proud of you.” 

Yuuri nodded into Viktor’s shoulder, laughing as his eyes stung and Viktor’s arms held him tightly. 

Viktor handed Yuuri his skate guards as he pulled away, sliding his warm-up jacket over his shoulders and leading him toward the Kiss and Cry. 

“The score for Yuuri Katsuki, please,” said the voice over the speakers. Yuuri could see Viktor wince and try to subtly adjust the earplugs. Yuuri reached over to grab his hand, trying to assure him that it would be over soon, that they would be able to leave soon. “The score for Yuuri Katsuki is 219.72. His total score is 332.39. He is in first place.” 

Arms grabbed him in a tight hug and all Yuuri could do was laugh, holding onto Viktor and keeping him steady. He had done it. Viktor’s lips found his after a moment and Yuuri melted into the embrace, not caring about the flashes around them as Viktor’s hands cupped his cheeks. Maybe everything would be okay. 

__

Yuuri!” Viktor chimed as he walked toward Yuuri while he, Phichit and Chris stepped off the ice, medals wrapped proudly around their necks. 

Yuuri lifted his medal with a small blush, but jumped when Viktor’s lips met his own instead. His fingers still held the straps of his medal as his eyes closed and Viktor’s arms wrapped around his shoulders. 

“You did so well, моё золотце,” he whispered against Yuuri’s lips. Yuuri felt his cheeks heating up as he pulled away from Viktor’s embrace to look over his face. Viktor smiled innocently, leaning in to press a quick peck to Yuuri’s medal as well, and Yuuri just smirked. 

“Come on, you two, podium selfie!” Phichit chimed, grabbing Yuuri and Viktor’s shoulders and dragging them toward him and Chris.

[image]

**♥** ** _christophe-gc_** _,_ ** _v-nikiforov_** and **24 others**

**phichit+chu** Grand Prix Final podium selfie! (feat. Viktor) #viktornikiforov #phichit #marseille #grandprixfinal #christophegiacometti #yuurikatsuki #silver

_ View all 20 comments _

7 minutes ago

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s here! Sorry omg I even started writing this earlier than usual in the week and STILL didn’t finish until after work today ugh. I mean. I guess it is 8.5k T^T this is what it takes to make a chapter I’m satisfied with apparently ugh. Well I hope that you like it!! This one kinda came out how I wanted it, actually, so I’m pretty stoked about it. 
> 
> Still working on mental issues, but I’m working on it, it’s just kinda like this sometimes, but I’m trying my best. Thank you for all your well-wishes in the last chapter, they made my heart warm, all of you are so sweet like wow. 
> 
> I’d also like to again thank Chymaille for the French translations, and my editors for making this not the worst thing I’ve ever written. Also, shoutout to clairecotta for once again helping me with figure skating rules and regs because I am the worst, and booksaremyreality for pointing out an issue on my part from one translation in the last chapter. Thank you all so, so much I appreciate it a lot!!!
> 
> And as per usual, because I know you’re not tired of reading it yet, I’m not a Russian or figure skating expert, and while I’m trying, I know I will still make mistakes, so if you see anything wrong please let me know and I will fix it as quickly as I can!!
> 
> Next chapter will delve into Nationals and European Championships as we get ready for Worlds!!! And you can come talk to me on my [tumblr](https://the-katuki-niliforv.tumblr.com/) I promise I don’t bite, so feel free to send a message or anything you want if you’d like ^.^!
> 
> I also wanted to make a note, I’m not sure if it was clear, but in this story Yuri and Otabek have a queerplatonic relationship and they’re NOT romantically/sexually involved, but they still share a close bond. Does that make sense?
> 
> Translations:  
> солнышко - sunshine/my sunshine  
> моё золотце - my gold  
> Все будет хорошо - everything will be fine  
> Прости - I’m sorry/Sorry  
> Merde - shit  
> Je comprends - I understand  
> Ça a l'air grave - That looks bad (essentially)  
> Ça fait sûrement encore plus mal que ça en a l'air - It probably hurts worse than it looks  
> Ça va aller? - Are you okay?  
> Petit ami - boyfriend
> 
> Please leave me a comment to let me know how I’m doing if you have a minute to spare and something to say! I appreciate all of you for reading and commenting and leaving kudos and bookmarking and subscribing like all of you are so amazing and I appreciate it all so, so, so much!!
> 
> Have a great weekend and take care of yourselves <3 
> 
> ~JD
> 
> (P.S. ao3 keeps burying me halfway down the page and idk why if anyone has answers please let me know;;; )


	9. Nationals and Articles and Headaches, Oh My!! The Road To Worlds!!!

**phichit+chu** Grand Prix Final podium selfie! (feat. Viktor) #viktornikiforov #phichit #marseille #grandprixfinal #christophegiacometti #yuurikatsuki #silver

1w

⊕

 **phichitphan** omg!! congrats on silver your program was amazing!!! <3 <3 <3

 **viktorsthighs** oh my god viktor’s head looks really bad like is he even going to finish the season?

 **erosislife** @viktorsthights yuuri hasn’t been on his SNS since the final either maybe it was a worse injury than we thought

 **viktorsthighs** @erosislife oh god my poor baby i hope he’s ok

 **justaguy** @viktorsthighs @erosislife i heard he was officially retiring for good bc of it smth abt the recovery time

 **quadflutz** phichit i’m so proud you did so well!!!!

 **quadflutz** @justaguy source??? bc i feel like he would have formally announced that

 **justaguy** @quadflutz http://skateweek.com/articles/nikiforov-to-retire if he’s still injured he couldn’t really announce anything anyway yk idk just what i heard

 **viktorsthighs** @justaguy oh my gOD!!! TELL ME THIS IS A LIE

 **erosislife** @justaguy damn but is it just me or did they go way too hard on his age like he’s not that old guys chill  &&&& he just has a concussion shit

 **quadflutz** @erosislife 1000% agreed this article seems like more of an attack on him as person than anything else seems to me like they just want him to retire tbh

 **quadflutz** @justaguy thanks for the info tho my dude good to know what’s going around

Yuuri gulped as he scrolled back up and clicked on the link to the article they were talking about. His heart was squeezing uncomfortably in his chest, his throat tight. He glanced to Viktor still sleeping beside him, bruise starting to fade to a sickly green.

 **_Nikiforov to Retire?_ ** _by Hans Elliott_

_After a devastating accident at this year’s Grand Prix Final, it seems that Viktor Nikiforov may be retiring for good. No one has been able to contact him in the week since the incident and his coach has not released any details concerning his condition. A reliable source has informed us that Nikiforov sustained a severe concussion and a laceration on his forehead._

_At his age, that kind of injury could be career-ending, and this reporter believes that it is. With the Russian National Championships rapidly approaching, it’s unlikely that Nikiforov will be healed enough to compete, much less do well. At twenty-eight, Nikiforov is already on the high-range age-wise in figure skating, and after his year off to coach Yuuri Katsuki, his skating has clearly suffered for it. It seems obvious that he won’t be able to re-attain his former glory before his body completely gives out on him._

_Some fans have even speculated that he’s been dealing with a separate injury over the course of the season to explain his poor performances anyway, and if he’s already having this many issues, is it realistic to imagine that he could continue to compete for any longer? My guess is no._

_Injury or not, it seems that Viktor Nikiforov’s career may not end with a bang, as we may have come to expect, but with a sad, little fizzle._

_Nikiforov has even stated—_

Yuuri locked his phone, unable to keep reading and gripping his phone tightly to attempt to keep himself together. The article was much longer, going on for another two pages, but Yuuri couldn’t begin to imagine what kind of other horrible things the reporter could have been coming up with to bash Viktor and his career.

“Nnh, моё золотце, what are you reading to make you look so upset?”

Yuuri jolted, looking down to see Viktor’s eyes still half-lidded and looking up at him with a soft, sleepy smile. Yuuri’s hands were shaking around his phone, trying to think of a believable lie before the silence stretched on for too long and Viktor got suspicious.

“It’s just—it was a…”

Viktor sighed softly, pushing himself up on his elbows and looking over Yuuri’s face, his expression a little sad, but resigned.

“Was it an article about me?”

“H-how—wh-why would you…?”

“I’m used to it, Yuuri. People have been waiting for me to retire for years.”

“But it’s not their choice whether you retire or not,” Yuuri said, leaning closer and tightening his fists slightly. “They shouldn’t just…”

“There’s always going to be someone who doesn’t agree with something, it’s okay, Yuuri,” Viktor told him, reaching up to run his long fingers over Yuuri’s jaw.

“It’s _not_ okay, the things they’re saying about you? It’s not right. It’s not fair.”

Viktor pushed himself up higher to press a kiss to Yuuri’s cheek before laying back against the pillows again, wincing slightly as he did. Yuuri sighed, reaching out to run his fingers through Viktor’s soft hair. “How are feeling today?”

Viktor shrugged.

“Okay. Still tired and sore.”

Yuuri nodded, glancing to Viktor’s hip with a sad sigh.

“And your hip?”

“It’s stiff right now. When I get up I’ll warm it up.”

Yuuri leaned in to kiss Viktor’s head when his phone dinged and he jumped, looking down to check his text messages.

**07:12 New Text from: Yurio**

_ <Did you see this? http://skateweek.com/articles/nikiforov-to-retire who the fuck does this guy think he is?> _

**07:14 New Text to: Yurio**

_ <You call Viktor old all the time, you know.> _

**07:17 New Text from: Yurio**

_ <yea but i actually care about him this guy is just an asshole don’t let viktor see it> _

**07:18 New Text from: Yurio**

_ <don’t tell him that i said that either> _

**07:19 New Text from: Yurio**

_ <i mean it pork cutlet bowl> _

Yuuri smiled, setting his phone on the bed and turning to look down at Viktor whose eyes lifted as soon as he was acknowledged.

“I’ll go make you a cup of coffee and an ice pack for your head, okay?” Yuuri said, leaning down to press his lips to Viktor’s in a quick peck before sliding out of bed. Viktor watched him go with a weak nod.

Yuuri took a calming breath as he turned on the coffee maker, bracing his hands on the countertop and letting his head fall on a sigh. He was so out of his element in these situations. He wasn’t used to people disliking Viktor, or calling for his retirement. His stomach was still roiling with leftover anger when the coffeemaker beeped. Makkachin nudged at his legs and he breathed out a soft sigh, a gentle smile on his lips. He bent down to scratch behind Makkachin’s ears, hugging him for a long moment, collecting himself as much as possible.

Yuuri stood straighter and poured two cups of coffee, putting ice into a small plastic bag and wrapping it in a thin cloth. He grabbed both mugs in one hand and grabbed the bag in the other before walking back to the bedroom, Makkachin hot on his tail.

Makkachin bolted forward once the door was opened again and leapt back onto the bed, settling on Viktor’s legs with a soft whine as Viktor slowly ran his fingers through soft, curly fur. “Here,” Yuuri said, helping Viktor sit up against the headboard and placing the ice pack on his forehead slowly.

Viktor reached up to hold it in place and accepted his cup of coffee with the other hand. His hand was shaking and Yuuri furrowed his eyebrow until he saw Viktor’s phone beside him, screen still lit and a block of text visible. Yuuri’s stomach sank.

“Viktor, did you—?”

“They’re right,” Viktor whispered, voice somewhat muffled by his mug. “My body’s giving out on me. I’m washed up, old, and I can’t skate the way that I used to,” he said, his tone unsettlingly steady. He took a long sip of coffee as he stared at the wall across from their bed.

“That’s—!”

“Yuuri,” Viktor said, calm and commanding. “It’s okay. I know. I...I know that my programs haven’t been the same since I came back, you can’t tell me that they haven’t been. I knew that it would be difficult to come back to skating like it did and coach at the same time, I was already prepared for that. I just didn’t...realize that it would be like this.”

“You’ve been adjusting, it’s okay to have problems starting out. You’re still _you_ ,” Yuuri said, settling himself into the bed and gently coaxing Viktor’s head onto his shoulder. Viktor laughed softly, nuzzling Yuuri’s jaw and staying silent. “Have you made any decisions?” he asked, softer and apprehensive. Viktor shrugged one shoulder, pensively dropping his eyes to his cup.

“What do you think I should do?”

“You know what I think you should do,” Yuuri whispered, turning to press a kiss to Viktor’s head. Viktor smiled, eyes sad as he nodded.

“I do.”

“But you still don’t know what you’re going to do?”

“I’ll...talk to Yakov about it. I’m...but what if no one wants to see me skate anymore?”

“Of course people want to see you skate, you’re incredible. I love watching you skate.”

“Even when I fall?”

“Even when you fall. Well, not _every_ fall,” Yuuri said, amending his statement as he reached up with his free hand to softly push Viktor’s hair out of his face. Viktor looked down for another moment, silence permeating the space between them. He took a shaking breath before nodding and looking up at Yuuri, leaning away from him and placing his ice pack in his lap.

“Okay. I’ll talk to Yakov.” He smiled then, bright and open and only a little forced. It was so familiar and Yuuri couldn’t help but lean down to kiss him, his heart fluttering as Viktor hummed happily and kissed him back.

“You should warm up your hip,” Yuuri whispered, reluctantly pulling back slightly, eyes fluttering open in time to see the pout and overtook Viktor’s sharp features.

“But, Yuuri,” he whined, setting his coffee mug on the bedside table before draping his arms around Yuuri’s shoulders. “Can’t I just kiss you all day? You have the day off.”

Yuuri pressed a soft, short kiss to Viktor’s lips once more before shaking his head.

“You know that you have to exercise your hip every day, I won’t let you slack off just for kissing.”

“So mean, Yuuri,” he complained, making a show of throwing the covers off his body, displacing Makkachin, and standing up. He stumbled slightly, making Yuuri’s heart stop, but caught himself on the wall, laughing and shaking his head. “Sorry, just stood up too fast.”

“Be more careful, you could have fallen,” Yuuri said, making Viktor turn a particularly sullen pout on him as he lifte his coffee cup from the nightstand and made his way around the bed.

“I _have_ fallen in my life, Yuuri. I have arthritis, I’m not a relic. I can walk around just fine.” he said, slowly rubbing circles against his hip as he stood in front of Yuuri who slipped his legs over the side of the bed and looked up. Yuuri reached around Viktor’s hips with a fond smile, tilting his head to the side as he looked him over.

“And to think I already went to the trouble of ordering you a cane for your birthday,” he said. Viktor laughed, shoulders shaking and stepping further into Yuuri’s embrace.

“You don’t mind being with such an old man, солнышко?”

Yuuri hummed in thought, fingers tracing up Viktor’s sides for a moment before he laughed, hugging Viktor even tighter.

“I’m sure I’ll be able to work with it somehow.”

“How gracious of you.”

Yuuri laughed again, standing up and sliding his hands up Viktor’s sides as he did. He laid a final kiss on Viktor’s cheek before moving out of the room ahead of him, just a touch of pink dusting his cheeks. Viktor smiled.

“You’re beautiful, and you already know that.”

“But I like it when you tell me,” Viktor responded immediately, following after Yuuri slowly, grimacing as he walked off the morning stiffness in his hip and made a few rounds of the living room, Makkachin happily trotting along beside him.

“If you finish the season, the Japanese National Championship is at the same time as the Russian one, so we won’t…” Yuuri trailed off and Viktor paused for a split second, nodding as he continued walking around the apartment.

“Will you be okay? If I can’t…?”

Yuuri’s hands tightened into a fist on the countertop, jaw tightening as he stood up straighter.

“Yes. I...I’ll be okay. I can do it, I’ll show everyone.”

Viktor gave him the smile that always made Yuuri’s legs numb as he nodded, striding into the kitchen and slipping his arms around Yuuri’s waist, as if he couldn’t survive without touching Yuuri constantly.

“I love it when you sound so confident,” he purred, squeezing Yuuri’s middle as Yuuri leaned back into him.

“I know that we talked about it at the beginning of the season, but it felt so far away then. I’ll be away for your birthday, too.”

“You can make it up to me,” Viktor said, pressing featherlight kisses up Yuuri’s jaw and drawing breathy laughs from his soft lips. Heat rose up Yuuri’s cheeks as Viktor’s kisses traveled down his neck.

A loud banging on their door made them both jump. Yuuri, miraculously, managed to not inflict any more injuries on Viktor as he jumped forward into the counter with a small yelp of pain. He turned to the door with a furrowed brow before turning to look at Viktor who sported a similar expression.

The banging started up again, accompanied by a voice that made the blush on Yuuri’s cheeks deepen as a faint, fond smile spread over his lips. Viktor sighed softly, releasing Yuuri’s hips and allowing him to walk forward and leaning on the counter.

“He has the worst timing,” Viktor mused.

“If you two are making out I’ll kick both of your asses! Viktor’s supposed to be _resting_ , pork cutlet bowl!” Yuri shouted from the other side of the door, prompting Yuuri to walk just slightly faster and throw their door open, ears burning.

“Yurio!” he called. “What are you doing here?”

“Honestly, can’t you two keep your hands to yourselves for just _one_ day?” Yuri asked as he pushed his way into the house, kicking his shoes off on instinct. Yuuri shook his head as he closed the door and followed after him.

“But just look at him, Yurio,” Viktor said, still leaning on the counter with his chin cradled in his open palm.

“I know what he looks like,” Yuri snapped, “Why aren’t you resting?”

“I had to move my hip.”

Yuri clicked his tongue and whirled around to face Yuuri, shoving a paper bag in his face with a deep scowl on his face. Yuuri took it with a tilt to his head.

“What…?”

“Yakov made pirozhki, and I figured Viktor would see that stupid article anyway. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“Thanks, Yurio,” Yuuri said, holding the bag slightly closer to his chest, nodding his head slightly and smiling.

“Would you like to eat it with us?” Viktor asked, making Yuri cross his arms over his chest and scoff.

“I guess,” he said, the soft, barely-there smile giving him away, but Viktor and Yuuri didn’t mention it. They sat at the bartop connected to the counter with small plates, passing the warm bag around quietly.

“You’ll be at Nationals, right?” Yuri asked, voice somewhat strained and looking straight at Viktor.

“I’m going to talk to Yakov about it,” Viktor said, looking down.

“You don’t believe that article, right? Because that reporter’s an idiot.”

“There were a few good points in it,” Viktor said.

“No there weren’t,” Yuri and Yuuri said in unison, drawing out a small smile from Viktor. He shrugged, eating slowly. Yuri glared over at him, fist clenched so tightly Yuuri thought that it might have been the only thing keeping him from reaching over and shaking Viktor.

“You put yourself through weeks of unnecessary pain so that you could skate against the pork cutlet bowl and now you’re just going to _give up_? Because of a stupid injury?”

“It’s a pretty serious injury,” Viktor said, tone flat and eyes down at his plate.  

“Cut the shit, Viktor. That’s not the problem, and you’re just using it to make yourself feel better.”

Viktor sighed, closing his eyes and reaching down to pat Makkachin’s head as he brushed against Viktor’s leg anxiously. Yuuri frowned, reaching down to hold Viktor’s knee softly. Viktor smiled and looked up to meet Yuri’s eyes.

“You’re very observant, Yurio.”

Yuri rolled his eyes.

“I’ll talk to Yakov. I want…I want to keep skating, I just don’t want to disappoint anyone.”

“You’ll only disappoint people if you stop skating in the middle of the season without saying anything, dumbass. So stop feeling sorry for yourself.”

“I didn’t realize you cared so much,” Viktor drawled, laughing at the sharp glare he received from Yuri in response.

“You two are just idiots, that’s all.”

__

“You’re sure that you feel well enough to skate, Vitya?” Yakov asked the next day as Viktor sat on the bench in front of him, arms crossed over his knees. Truthfully, Viktor didn’t feel all that up to skating, but he was sure that he would be okay by the time Nationals came around. He shrugged. Yakov pursed his lips.

“Rest for another couple days. If you feel well enough, I’ll keep your name in for Nationals. If you don’t, I’ll pull you. And don’t even think about lying to me, either.”

Viktor nodded seriously. Yakov nodded along in silence, looking Viktor over critically. “What’s wrong?” he finally asked. Viktor smiled. With the knowledge that Yakov wouldn’t lie to him, he looked up.

“Do you think I’m too old to skate?”

Yakov scoffed, sitting down beside Viktor on the bleachers and watching as Mila and Georgi talked and practiced on the other end of the rink.

“If you were too old to skate, you wouldn’t be skating, it’s that simple. Do you want to keep skating?”

Viktor nodded, frowning softly and pulling his knees up to his chest and resting his heels on the bench. “Then it’s fine. Don’t let other people dictate your decisions, it’s not like you, anyway. You don’t listen to anyone, least of all people you don’t even know. Skate until you’re done, Vitya, it’s only natural.”

Viktor nodded again, laying his chin down on his knees as he watched Mila and Georgi glide across the ice, longing tugging on his chest like a taught guitar string. He wanted to be out there. He wanted to skate.

He could see Yuuri and Yuri walking through the door together, talking quietly as they laced up their skates. Viktor smiled. “How is your leg?” Yakov asked, eyes locked on Georgi as he spoke. Viktur turned his head back toward him with a small shrug.

“It’s fine as long as I warm it up.”

“How’s the pain?”

“It’s getting easier to ignore.”

Yakov just nodded, silent and stoic as his eyes stayed locked on the ice. Viktor sat quietly beside him for a few minutes longer before calling out to Yuuri as he finished his warm-up. Yuuri smiled as he waved, skating to the boards as Viktor stood slowly and walked forward to meet him. “Go through your step sequence for your free program, I want to make sure it’s still as clean as the Final.”

Yuuri nodded seriously, skating toward an empty patch of ice and taking his starting position. Viktor watched with rapt attention, smiling and leaning on the boards to get just that much closer. Yuuri felt so untouchable, so incredible, and Viktor’s heart was pounding.

__

His head hurt.

“Run the second half of your step sequence again into the lutz,” Yakov said. Viktor nodded, trying to ignore the pounding behind his eyes as he skated toward the center of the rink as started skating again.

The music wasn’t playing, the world felt so loud. It had been a few days since he spoke to Yakov, but he needed to practice if he was going to make it through the National Championships. He had less than a week to perfect his programs again, and his heart wouldn’t leave his throat the entire time he was on the ice.

His step sequence was ending and he set up for his lutz. His head throbbed and all he could think about was pain and Yuuri and just how devastated he had looked when Viktor was helped off the ice. He couldn’t disappoint everyone again, he just couldn’t. His hands shook.

His skates bumped into the boards and he leaned forward, elbows hitting the wood harder than was probably necessary as he breathed out a trembling breath. His fingers tangled in his hair, brushing over the bruise on his forehead and making him flinch. “Vitya—?”

“I think I need to stop,” he said firmly, moving his hands to hold onto the boards, fingers blanching as he gripped them too tightly. He turned to Yakov with a smile, though he was sure it was visibly shaking. He would be better tomorrow. It would be fine tomorrow. “My head’s starting to hurt.”

Yakov nodded toward the door with a gruff noise of assent. Viktor stepped off the ice with a stumble. He could see Yakov eyeing him suspiciously but expertly ignored him as he slipped his skates off his feet.

“Get some rest, Vitya.”

Viktor nodded, sending another smiled over his shoulder as he walked toward the exit of the rink. Yuuri was waiting at a table beside Mila and Yuri, chatting animatedly. Viktor collected the rest of his things before stepping closer and slipping his hand into Yuuri’s hair and smiling to Yuri and Mila.

“Viktor!” Yuuri said, jumping and turning his head to look up at his partner.

“Hi, солнышко.”

“You’re finished already?” he asked, unconsciously pushing up into Viktor’s touch and making Viktor’s heart flutter in his chest as he nodded slowly. He reached up with his free hand to tap on his temple gently.

“My head. I’ll be fine.”

“Do you need to sit down?” Yuuri asked, leaping up out of his chair and pushing down on Viktor’s shoulders frantically.

“It’s fine, Yuuri, could we just go home?”

“You’d better be taking care of yourself, Viktor, I’m planning on kicking your ass properly at Nationals,” Yuri said pointedly, sitting forward to make his point clearer. Viktor smiled, tilting his head to the side.

“Of course, Yurio. Besides, I have Yuuri taking care of me. I’ll be fine.”

“The bruise at least is going away,” Mila said, looking at Viktor’s head seriously, sitting up to see him better. Viktor just nodded.

“It should be gone in the next week or so,” he said. Mila smiled, though there was something sad there that made Viktor’s chest uncomfortably tight.

“I’m glad that you’re feeling better. I was worried about you for a while there. We all were.”

“I’ll try not to worry you anymore, thanks, Mila.”

Mila laughed as she nodded and stood to give Viktor a quick hug.

“Get some rest, you idiot. And stop worrying the pork cutlet bowl, he looks worse than normal,” Yuri said, looking between Yuuri and Viktor. Viktor glanced to Yuuri and noted the bags under his eyes and the slight droop of his shoulders. His stomach lurched. Viktor just nodded as Yuuri led him away with a warm hand on his arm.

“Have you been sleeping, Yuuri?” he asked softly once they were outside. Yuuri froze for a moment before shrugging off the question with a pleasant smile.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about me—”

“That’s impossible,” Viktor said, interrupting him and leaning his head against Yuuri’s. “You’re going to take a nap when we get back.”

“What, no, it’s fine, I need to make sure you—!”

“Yuuri,” Viktor chimed, his tone immediately silencing his partner. “That’s an order from your coach. I’m sure I’ll survive for a few hours while you sleep.”

“But—”

Viktor shot Yuuri a dangerous smile, prompting him to swallow his words and sigh with a nod.

__

Makkachin circled Viktor’s legs as he fluttered about the kitchen, headache dulled by the painkillers Yuuri gave him before sulking to the bedroom. Yuuri would be leaving for Japan soon, without him. He needed to soak up the time they had together before they were separated for a week. He hadn’t cooked in a while, and the familiar, easy movements eased his mind slightly.

After he came to a good resting point, he moved into the bedroom, smiling folding at Yuuri lying across the middle of the bed, mouth open and twitching slightly with his glasses askew on his face. His phone lay limply in one hand and Viktor strode forward slowly to pick it up and place it on the bedside table alongside Yuuri’s glasses. Viktor leaned down to press a kiss to Yuuri’s messy hair, pulling the blankets up over his shoulders. He quietly crept out of the room to get back to preparing dinner with a fond smile he couldn’t shake. His mind was blessedly quiet, fear and worry and aching anxiety dulled at the back of his thoughts. Yuuri was so good to him, he did so much for him. How could he repay Yuuri after everything he did to make Viktor’s life better?

He would think of something.

__

“I’ll call you when I land,” Yuuri said, hands on Viktor’s jaw at the airport as they both prepared to fly to their respective National Championship. Viktor nodded, taking Yuuri’s hand in his and pressing a quick kiss to his knuckles and his ring.

“I’ll text you when I do and wait for your call. I’ll be with you the whole time.”

Yuuri nodded, squeezing Viktor’s hand and looking into his eyes.

“I know, I’ll skate my very best.”

“If you get nervous just remember that I already believe in you. I know you can do this, моё золотце.”

Yuuri nodded again, near-frantic as he grabbed Viktor in a tight hug around his shoulders, nose pressed against Viktor’s jaw. Viktor’s arms wrapped around Yuuri’s waist, holding him tight and kissing his cheek as he squeezed him. “I’ll see you soon. Я тебя люблю, Yuuri.”

“愛してるよ, Viktor,” Yuuri whispered back before reluctantly releasing Viktor and making his way to his gate, waving over his shoulder before disappearing into the crowd.

“Vitya, let’s go, the flight is starting to board,” Yakov called. Viktor turned around with a nodded, joining Georgi, Mila, and Yuri standing beside Yakov as they waited to board their plane. It was only three hours to Chelyabinsk, where the Russian National Championship awaited them. Viktor’s head felt better, but still ached dully beneath the painkillers. The doctor had cleared him, though, which was the most important thing.

It would be fine. He would be okay.

__

“Welcome our first skater of the evening, Yuuri Katsuki. His theme this year is Fear and Trust. He has said that the program details his struggle with anxiety throughout his life. His program was inspired by Viktor Nikiforov.”

The crowd was looming around him, loud applause blending into deafening white noise around him as he waved and made his way to center ice. He ran his thumb over his ring to ground himself. Viktor believed in him, he could do it. He would be okay.

His music started and his limbs moved in a flood of longing as he ached for Viktor to be with him, to be watching him.

“He will start with the signature move of his coach, Viktor Nikiforov, who could not be here this evening due to the Russian National Championships.”

Yuuri thought back to that morning, Viktor’s voice surrounding him.

_“Can you hear me?” Yuuri asked, a fuzzy picture of Viktor on his phone screen, breaking up occasionally. He sighed as he walked toward the window in his hotel room, hoping that the signal would somehow be better._

_“—ri,” Viktor’s voice finally said, clear and loud. Yuuri smiled brightly as Viktor’s image cleared and Yuuri could clearly see the furrow of his eyebrows._

_“What?” Yuuri asked, already feeling the knots in his stomach loosen at being able to see the other man._

_“You look tired,” Viktor said. “Are you feeling okay?”_

_Yuuri nodded quickly, swallowing thickly and managing a small smile._

_“I’m okay, I’ll be okay. How are you? How is your hip? And your head?”_

_Viktor laughed, he sounded tired._

_“Fine, fine, I’m okay, Yuuri.”_

_“How do you feel about your free skate tonight? Your short program yesterday was beautiful.”_

_Viktor tilted his head as he smiled and Yuuri’s heart jumped._

_“It’ll be okay, I know it will,” Viktor told him. Yuuri nodded, smiling and fiddling with his ring as he looked at Viktor’s face on his phone screen._

_“You know this short program, Yuuri,” Viktor finally said, glancing over his shoulder as Yuri barged in and glared. “You can do this, I know that you can.”_

_Yuuri nodded, taking a steadying breath._

_“Don’t get cold feet, pork cutlet bowl! I already said I was going to beat you at Worlds!” Yuri said, loud enough for Yuuri to hear. He and Viktor grinned._

_“Thanks, Yuri,” he said, feeling a warmth spreading through his chest, easing the ache just enough to make it bearable. Yuri blinked at him before looking away with a shrug._

_“Yeah, whatever.”_

_“I believe in you, Yuuri. All of us do,” Viktor said, voice so warm Yuuri could swear he could feel himself melting in the chair he sat in. He nodded. He could do this._

“Quad flip, absolutely gorgeous.”

__

“Welcome our next skater on the ice, Viktor Nikiforov. His theme this year is strength. He says that the program was inspired by his fiance, Yuuri Katsuki.”

Viktor’s skates felt heavy as he skated to the center of the rink and waited, breaths short and eyes closed. He would be okay.

“He sustained a head injury during the Grand Prix Final, but it appears that he’s well enough to compete tonight, much to his fans’ relief.”

His music started and he moved, limbs so heavy with longing he was amazed he could skate at all. He wanted to be with Yuuri, to support him. He wanted Yuuri to see him skate, he wanted to see Yuuri skate. His stomach was roiling and his hip ached as if it were longing for Yuuri’s touch, too.

“What an emotional opening, and his first jump will be his signature move, a quad flip.”

_“Technically, you are well enough to compete, though I wouldn’t necessarily recommend it,” the doctor said pensively. “The exercises that you’ve been doing are slowing the progress of the arthritis, but if you jump back into competing too quickly, it could bring back the symptoms of your concussion.”_

_Viktor nodded, twisting his fingers together and taking a deep breath._

_“But I can? I can compete?”_

_The doctor sighed, leaning back in her chair and nodding slowly._

_“You can. But I will say again that I wouldn’t necessarily recommend doing so this quickly.”_

_“Thank you,” Viktor said, a guilty sort of smile on his lips and the doctor just nodded. “I know that you will, just be carefull, and remember to rest when you feel tired and ice your hip when it hurts.”_

_“I will,” Viktor agreed._

_“Don’t push yourself too hard. I understand that this competition is important, but so is your body, so listen to it if you feel tired or in pain.”_

_“Right.”_

“Quad flip, excellent.”

__

Yuuri’s body was moving as if it could reach Viktor if it only moved fast enough, it he only moved perfectly he would be able to show the entire world how much he loved him.

Was Viktor okay? Did his free skate go well? Was he feeling okay? How did Yuri do? Were they happy with their scores? Would Viktor be allowed to go to the European Championships? Worlds? Would he be able to skate on the same ice as him again?

_“Viktor,” Yuuri whispered the night before they were to leave, leaning on Viktor’s chest and looking up at him. Viktor tilted his head down to look into Yuuri’s eyes._

_“What is it, солнышко?”_

_“You’re Viktor Nikiforov,” Yuuri said, making Viktor’s eyebrows pull together as he pursed his lips._

_“I’m sure you’re not just realizing this.”_

_“No, I mean...you’re_ the _Viktor Nikiforov. You’re the most decorated men’s figure skater in history. You’re incredible, and your skating is breathtaking. Just don’t forget that, okay? Even if you have a few issues, you’re still healing from an injury. Even injured, you could outskate most of the world. Just...remember how amazing you are, okay?”_

_“Okay, Yuuri. And if I forget, you can remind me. And I’ll remind you if you ever doubt yourself. I will always believe in you and your skating, Yuuri.” Viktor leaned down to press a long kiss to Yuuri’s lips and Yuuri leaned up into it, sighing as Viktor’s hand tangled in his hair. “Thank you, моя любовь.”_

“What a clean quad sal, there, followed by a gorgeous triple toe!”

__

It was coming, Viktor’s heart was speeding up as he prepared for the lutz, moving out of his step sequence, careful to note how far he was from the boards. It was fine, it would be fine. His hip was warmed up, he was a good distance away, it would be fine.

_Viktor walked in on Yuuri crouching over a box in the middle of their room when they were still staying in Hasetsu, holding stacks of paper in his hands. Were those...posters?_

_“Yuuri?” he asked, drawing a quick glance from Yuuri and a nod toward the bed beside him. Viktor walked forward silently, perching on the edge of the bed as Yuuri shuffled through posters of Viktor. Viktor’s heart fluttered._

_“I hadn’t realized until now,” Yuuri began, voice soft and resigned. “In some of these...you look so unhappy.”_

_Viktor tilted his head. “It’s not...it’s not obvious or anything, it’s just. Now that I see you all the time, it’s so clear that sometimes in these posters...you were just faking a smile even though your eyes are sad.”_

_“It was lonely sometimes,” Viktor said, nodding and looking down at the posters Yuuri was holding. He had a lot._

_“You were so good at hiding it, I didn’t even realize it.”_

_“You didn’t know me, Yuuri,” Viktor said, trying to be consoling, but grimacing when Yuuri turned a frown on him._

_“That doesn’t make me feel any better. You were so_ good _at hiding your feelings and...don’t do that anymore, okay? Please...tell me.”_

_“Yuuri—”_

_“I don’t want you to ever feel that way all by yourself again, Viktor. Not ever.”_

_“Okay, Yuuri, I’ll do my best.”_

“Ah, the quad he planned turned into a double and he was unable to complete the second jump.”

Viktor’s heart was in his throat, knees shaking as he skated into the next sequence. He had set up the jump perfect, but he couldn’t make himself do it. He couldn’t do it. What was Yuuri going to say?

“He added a triple flip to make up for the missed toeloop. Now a flying sit spin, beautiful.”

__

“A beautiful triple axel from Katsuki. He’s not letting the absence of his coach deter him.”

His body flew over the ice doing everything in his power to convey every ounce of love he felt, to release all of his anxieties for the world to see. Viktor had made him into this skater, and he was proud of that and he desperately wanted the world to understand.

He dropped into a sit spin. It was so hard to breathe, he was so close to the end. Would he be able to tell Viktor something good soon? Would he make him proud? Would he show him that Yuuri was worth all of his belief?

__

“A triple axel, triple loop! Touchdown on the loop but otherwise beautiful.”

His hip was starting to ache and his head throbbed but he was almost done. He was so close, he could finish, he could do it. He was fine. It was fine. He pushed off into a camel spin, head swimming with thoughts of Yuuri.

He dropping into a sit spin, heart beating so frantically he could swear his vision was blurring.

He stopped in his final pose and the applause consumed him.

Would Yuuri be proud?

__

Yuuri lifted his leg in a Y spin, the music crescendoing and cascading over his body like water, drenching him in sound and drowning out the cheering the crowd until there was nothing but him and music.

“A truly captivating performance.”

Yuuri held his final pose for a moment before he slid onto the cool, unforgiving ice, the sounds of the crowd and the rink crashing back to his senses and making him gasp. It was over, he was done. Did Viktor see? Was he happy?

__

“The score for Viktor Nikiforov is 102.89.”

__

“The score for Yuuri Katsuki is 110.53”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry oh my this took so long and I truly apologize for that, it took way longer than I thought to write! But it’s here, and it’s not beta read. I’ll add edits and everything tomorrow, but I wanted to get it up tonight/this morning at least so I hope that this is okay. (i’m exhausted) i don't know how I feel about this chapter, but i'm hoping those feelings lean more positive in the morning;;
> 
> I want to say in advance that next week’s chapter might be a day or two late, schoolwork is getting a bit overwhelming plus with the ridiculously bad down I’ve been trying to power through on top of my anxiety it’s been. A lot. It won’t be more than a day or two, though, just to give me time to write a chapter I’m happy with.
> 
> I’m not sure if it was clear, but the SPs were nonlinear, the Russian Championships start a day before the Japanese Championships, so these would be happening a day apart, but I wanted to try something different with the skating programs. Do you love it? Hate it? Take it either way? Let me know! Also shoutout to rayrayswimusic for helping me out with the more medical side of stuff since I’m not super well-versed in that either and google was pretty unhelpful. Thank you as well to everyone who’s been reading, leaving kudos, commenting, new subscribers and old, bookmarkers, public and private. You all make me so happy, and you give me so much motivation to make this story as good as I can, so thank you all so, so much.
> 
> Again, as you well know by now, I’m not a Russian, Japanese, or figure skating expert, so if I make a mistake please let me know and I will love you forever and fix it as fast as possible. (this might be the down talking but) I know that we’ve lost a few people over the course of this story, which is fine, it’s totally not for everyone, but I sincerely hope that those of you still subscribed and just who are still reading in general are continuing to enjoy it!
> 
> Translations:  
> солнышко - sunshine/my sunshine  
> моё золотце - my gold  
> Моя любовь - my love  
> Я тебя люблю - I love you  
> 愛してるよ - I love you
> 
> Come find me on tumblr if you'd like! I promise I don't bite;;;
> 
> If you have a minute and something to say please leave me a comment and let me know how I’m doing, I always appreciate them! (and I will catch up on responses tomorrow!)
> 
> Have a great weekend everyone and be safe <3
> 
> (sorry fuck ao3 STILL keeps putting me right on the second page or further when I update and it's seriously making me so upset and I don't know why so my apologies if you get multiple updates on this i'm so sorry EDIT: well fuck me I guess because no matter what I do it doesn't matter it still puts me in the same spot and i'm too upset and anxious to do anything else. sorry if this makes the update harder to find, if you have any idea how to fix this constant issue please tell me)


	10. The Road to Worlds Continues: National Championship Free Skate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING** This chapter contains a depiction of a character having a panic attack, if, for any reason, you wish to skip this scene but still want to read the chapter, the scene starts at 'Yuuri was glad there...' and ends at 'I should have called.' 
> 
> Take care of yourselves, and I hope that you enjoy! <3

Yuuri laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling and turning his phone slowly in his fingers, waiting. He jolted as his phone vibrated, and he dropped it onto his chest in his haste to open the screen. 

**02:24 New Text from: Viktor**

_ <Shouldn’t you be asleep, солнышко?> _

Yuuri breathed out a soft laugh, as he smiled and tilted his head. 

**02:26 New Text to: Viktor**

_ <I can’t fall asleep.> _

**02:27 New Text from: Viktor**

_ <Are you nervous for the free skate? Do you want me to call you?> _

Viktor’s response was almost immediate, and Yuuri couldn’t stop the warmth from blossoming in his chest. His body felt like it was made of warm taffy as he sunk further into the bed. 

**02:29 New Text to: Viktor**

_ <Texting is okay I think, thanks Vitya.> _

Yuuri could feel the tightness in his chest beginning to ease slightly. He could almost forget that Viktor was miles and miles away from him, if just for a moment. 

**02:31 New Text from: Viktor**

_ <Tell me what you’re thinking, let me help.> _

Yuuri paused, thumbs poised over his phone screen as he thought. How could he explain this without seeming weak? How could he say how he was feeling without making Viktor worry about him, or worry that he wouldn’t ever be able to skate on his own?

**02:34 New Text from: Viktor**

_ <Stop overthinking, tell me what’s bothering you, Yuuri.> _

Yuuri laughed, a wet sort of sound, but, despite the sting in his eyes, there were no tears gathering. Not yet. His heart felt so big in his chest, like it might just burst out of him. He took a moment to gather himself before lifting his phone to his line of sight. 

**02:38 New Text to: Viktor**

_ <I just can’t stop thinking of the last time I did my free skate without you there.> _

**02:38 New Text to: Viktor**

_ <I know it’s stupid.> _

**02:39 New Text to: Viktor**

_ <I’m just scared.> _

His hands were shaking as he tried to explain himself further, to type a better representation of his feelings, but his phone slipped from his fingers and he gasped, feeling his body trembling on the soft hotel bed. He jumped when his phone vibrated again, the sensation seeming to spread through his ribcage from his sternum.

**02:42 New Text from: Viktor**

_ <It’s not stupid, Yuuri, don’t say that. It’s okay to be scared солнышко. I believe in you, and I know that you can do this, your free skate is going to be beautiful, just like your short program.> _

**02:43 New Text to: Viktor**

_ <You already watched my short program?> _

His hands were still shaking and he bit his lip, desperately begging for his body to stop, to get under control. He just wanted to have a normal conversation. 

**02:45 New Text from: Viktor**

_ <Of course I did. What kind of coach would I be if I hadn’t? You did so well.> _

**02:46 New Text from: Viktor**

_ <You’re so strong, Yuuri. Even stronger than you were last year, and you can do this with or without me.> _

**02:47 New Text to: Viktor**

_ <I don’t want to do it without you.> _

**02:48 New Text from: Viktor**

_ <I would hope not, you would hurt my feelings otherwise. But the point is that you don’t need me there to do well. You have the strength on your own.> _

**02:48 New Text from: Viktor**

_ <Я тебя люблю, Yuuri> _

Yuuri laughed again, closing his eyes and taking a shaking breath. His shoulders relaxed and he sunk into the bed with a weak sigh.Viktor was getting so much better at making him feel better. 

**02:49 New Text to: Viktor**

_ <Thank you, Viktor.> _

**02:50 New Text to: Viktor**

_ <愛してるよ.> _

**02:48 New Text from: Viktor**

_ <Of course, моё золотце. Get some sleep.> _

Yuuri set his phone down on the bedside table and curled up beneath the thick, fluffy blankets; body feeling miraculously light. 

__

“Please welcome our next skater on the ice, Yuri Plisetsky, who is in third place after last night’s short program. He is coming off of a growth spurt and says that he used the time he spent away from the Grand Prix series relearning and perfecting his jumps.” 

Yuri skated to center ice with his jaw clenched. He could see Viktor standing beside Yakov, still warming up and watching him with a smile. 

Otabek was in Kazakhstan again, practicing as much as possible for Four Continents. This would be the first time Yuri skated without him present in months, and he couldn’t help but feel nervous. As the pressure and desperation settled onto his shoulders, he wished, more than anything, to see his best friend. He needed to make the Russian National team and go to Worlds. He had to meet Yuuri there and face him, to prove that he could beat him. 

The silence enveloped him, and within the emptiness, the first chords of his music reached him. 

__

“Welcome our next skater on the ice, Viktor Nikiforov. He is in second place after the short program last night. Both of his programs were inspired by his fiance, Yuuri Katsuki. He said that Katsuki is one of his greatest inspirations.” 

Viktor’s knees were shaking and he couldn’t stop the sudden flood of anger that fell over him because of it. He made it through the short program; he would be okay. He didn’t have a quadruple lutz in this program. He would be fine. 

He just had to think of Yuuri, of how strong he was, how incredible he was. All the life and love he breathed into Viktor’s body the moment they met. 

His music started and his knees stopped shaking. 

__

“Please welcome our final skater of the evening, Yuuri Katsuki, he is in first place after the short program last night. His program was choreographed by his coach, Viktor Nikiforov.”

Yuuri’s lungs ached as he stepped onto the ice. His body felt weary and everything hurt, but he had to do this. He needed to show Viktor that he would be okay, that he could do this. He felt like he always spent his time trying to prove to himself that he deserved the blind belief Viktor seemed to have in him, but at that point all he wanted was to believe in himself, too. 

He took a deep breath, he could feel Minami’s eyes on him from the sidelines and smiled to himself. 

When his music started, it almost felt as if his body had stopped aching. 

__

_ Yuri’s body crashed into the ice and he bit back a shout of frustration as Otabek skated toward him with a hand out. Yuri took it and stood, eyes casting a sharp glare downward.  _

_ “You’re thinking too much. Just jump, Yuri.”  _

_ “If I don’t focus I’ll just keep—!” _

_ “You’re already falling when you’re focusing too much, try something else,” Otabek said, laying a comforting hand on Yuri’s shoulder, eyes intense. “Last year, what did you think about when you jumped?”  _

_ “I don’t know, I just…” Yuri trailed off as Otabek smiled, nodding as Yuri relaxed his shoulders, realization dawning on him. “I just did it.” _

_ “Don’t overthink it and try again.”   _

_ Yuri nodded, skating away from Otabek and fixing his ponytail before he took a calming breath and let his body relax.  _

_ He swung his leg and took off into a quadruple salchow. His skate hit the ice, body wobbling slightly, but staying vertical. He stopped, his eyes wide, and looked over his shoulder at Otabek who sent him a thumbs up. “See? I knew you could do it.”  _

_ Yuri could feel the wide smile spreading his lips and did nothing to stop it as he nodded.  _

“And a beautiful quad salchow to start his program!” 

__

_ “Oi, Viktor.” Yuri’s voice was closer than he anticipated, making Viktor jump and snap his head to the side. “What are you even doing?” Yuuri leaned down to look at the screen of Viktor’s phone. It was a text from Mari with a video attachment.  _

_ “It’s Yuuri’s short program,” Viktor said, a soft smile making him look so much younger. “He did so well.”  _

_ “What? Let me see,” Yuri said, nudging Viktor’s shoulder and leaning in closer to get a better look at Viktor’s phone. “Play it again,” he demanded, making Viktor laugh softly. He moved to replay the video when Yuri grabbed the phone instead. “Actually, I’ll watch it. Go warm up your hip. The pork cutlet bowl will be really upset if you don’t make it onto the National team because your hip was stiff.”  _

_ “You’re so thoughtful,” Viktor teased as he slowly pushed himself up from his chair and winced, reaching up to rub his hip.  _

_ “Has it still been hurting?” Yuri asked, his voice nothing more than a whisper. Viktor could see the veiled fear tensing in Yuri’s face and felt a rush of warmth in his chest. He smiled, tilting his head to the side.  _

_ “On and off, but I’m getting used to it.”  _

_ Yuri sneered at that, holding Viktor’s phone tighter in his hand as he met Viktor’s gaze.  _

_ “Can’t those doctors do anything about it? It seems to me like they’re not doing anything at all.”  _

_ “There isn’t a cure, Yuri,” Viktor said. Yuri rolled his eyes, slumping down in the chair and pulling Viktor’s phone up to his face again, a clear signal that he was done speaking. Yuuri’s short program music played again and Viktor let himself be lulled into routine as he stretched and listened.  _

_ He snuck a glance in Yuri’s direction when he could hear the music reaching its end and held back a breathy laugh. Yuri’s expression was largely unchanged, but Viktor could still see the barely-there puff of pride in his chest.  _

“His first planned jump is a quad toe loop.” 

Viktor poised himself before digging his toe pick into the ice and launching himself into the air. He almost didn’t notice when he landed on the ice again, spinning with a flair. “A gorgeous quad toe right off the bat. Nikiforov doesn’t seem to be letting his injury hold him back in this performance!” 

__

_ “Yuuri!” A familiar voice cut through his concentration and Yuuri glanced up, smiling gently when he saw Minami bouncing on his heels and waving. Yuuri nodded, feeling a jolt in his chest as the other skater bounded forward. “Your short program last night was incredible!” he said.  _

_ Yuuri laughed, the sound somewhat stilted. He nodded his thanks a bit awkwardly with slight flush coloring his cheeks.  _

_ “Thank you, your program was great as well,” he said. “You’ve improved a lot since last year.”  _

_ Minami let out a quiet squealing sound and Yuuri stepped back, lips parted slightly, unsure how to respond.  _

_ “Thank you so much!” Minami shouted, eyes wide and round and his cheeks reddening as his eyes roved over Yuuri’s face. Yuuri laughed again, nodding. “Are you alright?” Minami asked after a long silence, looking Yuuri over critically and glancing down at the way Yuuri was clutching his phone.  _

_ “Fine, don’t worry about it,” Yuuri said with what he hoped was a disarming smile. The look on Minami’s face told him otherwise.  _

_ “Is something going on?”  _

_ “It’s stupid,” Yuuri told him, rubbing the back of his neck with a shrug. “Viktor just...hasn’t texted in a while. He’s probably busy, I’m worrying for nothing,” Yuuri said in a rush, shaking his head. An incessant voice in the back of his head reminded him that there were no events that Viktor would be involved in on that day, that he should have been able to text him at least once in the last two hours, but he tried to tamp it down, to remind himself that Viktor could be forgetful. He had probably just gotten caught up in a conversation or something. He was worrying over nothing. _

_ “That’s not stupid,” Minami said seriously, pouting up at Yuuri. “Worrying about people you care about is natural.”  _

_ Yuuri smiled, chest loosening slightly as he nodded, still holding his phone too tightly and leaving light grooves in his palm.  _

_ “Thanks, Minami.”  _

“A slight over-rotation on the quad toe landing, but he pushed through it, overall still a beautiful jump!” 

__

“A gorgeous spiral into a triple axel, here it comes!” 

_ “It’s okay, Yuri,” Otabek said, his deep voice making the speakers of Yuri’s phone buzz against his skin.  _

_ “No, it’s not!” Yuri shouted, running a frantic hand through his hair and shaking his head.  _

_ “I’m sure he knows that you didn’t mean anything by it, I don’t think he blames you.”  _

_ “He could! I didn’t think he cared when I called him old, but you should have seen him, Otabek. That article really got to him.”  _

_ “You didn’t write the article, Yuri,” Otabek said, the smooth timbre of his voice helping to keep Yuri’s heart from beating right out of his chest, if only just. “If it’s really making you feel bad, then don’t call him old so often, it’s not too complicated.”  _

_ “What if he gives up? Or hurts himself pushing his body even more than he already does? What if he trashes his career because of it?”  _

_ Yuri hated the sick feeling bubbling up in his stomach at the thought. Of course he cared about Yuuri and Viktor, but he didn’t see a reason to be obvious about it, or to make a big deal of it. He just wanted to keep skating on the same ice as them, he wanted to prove himself as a skater against them on the world stage.  _

_ He hated the way he felt seeing Viktor in pain, not that he would admit it out loud.  _

_ “It’s his choice what he does with his body and his career. I don’t think you can do more than you already have. He’ll figure it out soon,” Otabek said, drawing Yuri up to the surface again, even though his lungs still felt desperately empty. “You should talk to them.”  _

_ “He wouldn’t tell me if something bothered him, that’s just how he is,” Yuri argued, sitting on his bed and biting his lip. “What if he does something really stupid and makes the pork cutlet bowl feel worse than he already does?”   _

_ “What about him? The other Yuuri, you could talk to him,” Otabek suggested. Yuri sighed.  _

_ “I guess. I don’t know how much he really knows either, or what he can really do with how stubborn Viktor is.”  _

_ “It wouldn’t hurt to try, right?”  _

_ “I guess you’re right,” Yuri conceded, pursing his lips. “Thanks, Otabek.”  _

_ “It’s no problem, Yuri.”  _

“A perfect triple axel, and now for the choreographic sequence.” 

__

“He has a triple-triple planned here, let’s see how it goes.” 

_ “Viktor?” Yuuri’s voice was so quiet Viktor could hardly hear it even in the dense silence of their room. He shifted slightly, prompting Yuuri to move closer. He ran his fingers through Viktor’s hair as he sat on the side of the bed. “Are you okay? You haven’t gotten up to move your hip yet.”  _

_ Viktor pulled the blankets further over his shoulders, remaining silent with his jaw feeling heavy and tight. “Do you have a headache?”  _

_ Viktor shook his head, at least he hoped that he did. His entire body felt like it was made of lead and as if every ounce of energy had been sapped from his body in his sleep. Something crossed Yuuri’s face as he smiled gently despite the worry in his eyes. “Do you want to lay here for a bit longer?”  _

_ Viktor nodded, Yuuri mirroring his movements with light, gentle fingers that he continued to run through his hair. “Do you want me to stay with you?”  _

_ Viktor nodded again, prompting Yuuri to slide under the covers beside him, taking Viktor into his welcoming arms and laying his chin atop Viktor’s head. “It’s okay,” Yuuri whispered. Viktor pressed his face against Yuuri’s warm, radiant skin. He reached up to grip at Yuuri’s shirt until his knuckles gave an almighty ache, but held on. He could feel his lip wobbling slightly, but his eyes remained dry. The overwhelming numbness settled slightly, the static in his mind dimed. “I’m right here.”  _

_ “Thank you, Yuuri.”  _

_ Lips met his forehead and he let himself sink into the comfort Yuuri surrounded him with, and welcomed the calm silence that followed.  _

“Triple axel, triple lutz, gorgeous!” 

__

“A truly brilliant step sequence, as always. And now he has planned a quad-triple combination.” 

_ Yuuri was glad there weren’t a lot of people around as his hands began to tremble and the words of the news article on his phone screen began to blur.  _

**_Viktor Nikiforov Collapses At Russian National Championship!_ **

_ Viktor Nikiforov, 29, collapsed at the Russian National Championship while staff and skaters were preparing for the Pair’s Free Skate to begin. Information is still being gathered at this time.  _

_ “Yuuri?”  _

_ Was that Minami? Why did he sound so far away? “—ou okay?” Minami asked, voice still distorted as his face appeared blurrily in Yuuri’s vision. Did he take off his glasses?  _

_ Yuuri’s blearily reached up, jolting as his fingertips brushed cool plastic.  _

_ “It’s Viktor, he-he—!”  _

_ Was Viktor okay? Was he in the hospital again? Was he alive? Did he stay up too late because of Yuuri and pass out from exhaustion? What were they saying to him? Was he even awake? Was he conscious?  _

_ “Yuuri, your phone is ringing,” Minami said, his voice maybe a little frantic. Yuuri couldn’t tell. He couldn’t breathe, how could he be expected to answer a phone? The room was so small, his clothes were too tight. His skin was squeezing him, suffocating him. Minami gently pulled Yuuri’s phone from his vice grip and met Yuuri’s eyes. Yuuri nodded, reaching up to cover his mouth with his hand, trying to keep himself together.  _

_ What if this was because he hadn’t taken care of Viktor’s head injury well enough? The doctor in Marseille had trusted him to take care of Viktor, but what if he missed something, some sign that Viktor wasn’t well enough to skate?  _

_ “H-hello? Yuuri Katsuki’s phone,” Minami said, was his voice shaking? A tinny rumble from his phone made Minami pull away with a wince. “He-he’s um, he’s here, yeah, but he’s—”  _

_ The rumble cut him off and Minami extended the phone to Yuuri.  _

_ “Pork cutlet bowl! Who was that? Answer your own phone!” Yuri shouted. “You probably already saw the news, but Viktor—”  _

_ “Is he okay? Is he awake?” Yuuri begged, knees knocking together as he leaned back on the wall and slid down.  _

_ “He’s fine. His blood pressure dropped or something, they think it might be a medication he’s on. He didn’t even hit his head or anything, Georgi caught him.”  _

_ Yuuri wanted to be relieved, but the tense, aching tightness over his whole body wouldn’t let up and he breathed out a shaky sound, trying to make his mouth work. “Oi, pork cutlet bowl are you listening to—wait, are you…?”  _

_ Yuuri couldn’t respond as Yuri cursed and shuffling on the other line filled Yuuri’s ear. His lungs were empty, his skin itched. He could hear rushed words in Russian before more shuffling.  _

_ “Yuuri, what’s going on? Are you alright?” Viktor’s voice was quiet and tired, but it was there. Viktor was awake. _

_ “I-I...you collapsed? Are you okay?” he choked out. Minami was kneeling in front of him, far enough not to touch him but watching carefully. He had a pinched expression on his face and Yuuri’s chest ached.  _

_ “Oh, Yuuri,” Viktor whispered. “Yes, I’m fine, don’t worry. It could be a lot of things, but I also didn’t eat very much today, so that could have been the cause. I’m sorry.”  _

_ “It’s not your fault,” Yuuri said, teeth grinding together as he spoke, shaking his head.  _

_ “Yuuri, can you take some slow breaths with me?”  _

_ Yuuri nodded, knowing that Viktor couldn’t see him, but not trusting his voice to form the words he wanted. He breathed slowly, trying not to take in too much oxygen as the flashes of heat cascaded over his body and his mind ran too quickly. “You’re so strong, солнышко. You’ve done this before, it will be over soon.” _

_ Yuuri couldn’t properly respond as he waited out the waves of fear and pain and tightness, trying to concentrate on the sound of Viktor breathing, or counting the sequins on Minami’s outfit.  _

_ “I’m sorry,” he whispered like a mantra, voice shaking so much he wasn’t sure if either Viktor or Minami could even understand him. The plastic of his phone case creaked under his grip and his other hand held his forearm, dull nails digging into soft skin beneath long sleeves.  _

_ “You’re doing so well, Yuuri, it’s almost over,” Viktor said, his voice like a hand pulling him from deep, suffocating water. And for a moment he could breathe, before everything crashed down around him again. _

_ “I-it’ll be okay, Yuuri,” Minami said, voice trembling. Yuuri apologized again, and the stricken look that crossed the younger skater’s face just made him want to apologize again. _

_ The sharp feeling of dread began to ebb and Yuuri relaxed against the wall, allowing himself to be momentarily lulled by the quiet Russian words Viktor whispered through the phone.  _

_ “Okay, I think it’s over,” Yuuri said. Viktor breathed a relieved sigh, making Yuuri smile. _

_ “I should have called,” Viktor said. Yuuri’s heart sunk. _

_ “No, it’s not your fault. Please don’t blame yourself. I’m just being silly.”  _

_ “Don’t brush off your feelings like that, Yuuri. You had every right to be worried and scared. I should have said something before you found out from a website or social media, I just got swept up in everything. I’m sorry.”  _

_ Yuuri sniffled, not wanting to argue and just nodded.  _

_ “Okay.”  _

_ “Minami! There you are! It’s almost time for you to skate, what are you doing?” Minami’s coach asked, her hair messy and eyes wide. Minami jumped, looking over at her and then back to Yuuri. Yuuri just nodded with a tired smile.  _

_ “It’s okay, go ahead, I’ll be fine.”  _

_ Minami looked pensive before he nodded and stood up, casting worried glances back at Yuuri as he walked forward to meet his coach and make his way into the rink.  _

_ “Yuuri! There you are!” Mari said, kneeling down in front of him and looking him over, pulling up the sleeve on his free arm and inspecting the small grooves his nails had managed to make. “What happened? Who’s on the phone?” she asked, holding his hand as if it were made of brittle clay.  _

_ “It’s Viktor,” he said, closing his eyes and trying to compose himself.  _

_ “You already saw the news, didn’t you?” Mari asked, one of her hands cupping his cheek, her warm skin a stark contrast to the chilly air around him. Yuuri nodded, desperately trying to keep himself from apologizing or crying again. “Is he okay?”  _

_ Yuuri nodded again, head moving even faster. “I’ll grab you some water, just rest for a few minutes, okay?”  _

_ Mari stood again, offering a squeeze on Yuuri’s shoulder in comfort before striding down the hall.  _

_ “Yuuri,” Viktor said.  _

_ “Yeah?” Yuuri asked quietly, his throat dry.  _

_ “Do you feel okay to skate?”  _

_ Yuuri hummed, desperate to not let his emotions get in the way of his skating. He just wanted to be able to skate on the same ice as Viktor, he had to do this. He needed to. “I know you can do this, Yuuri.”  _

“Quadruple flip, triple toe loop, absolutely gorgeous.” 

__

Yuri’s body moved with the music like it was made to move him, everything stopped, the world halted and stilled around him, like the early morning on a snowy day. The sound of blades on ice and sweet music flooded his senses until there was nothing else. 

He was going to beat both Yuuri and Viktor someday, no matter what. He would pour every ounce of his being into skating, into perfecting himself. Someday it would pay off. 

His music wound down and the applause began to filter into his ears. 

“—’s done it! All of his quads were successful!” 

__

His hip ached as he landed his last triple salchow, the sharp sensation running down his thigh and settling in his knee. It was almost done. He could rest and ice his hip and take something for the pain soon. 

With the promise of relief, he moved into his final combination spin, an ache in his chest pulsing with the thought of not seeing Yuuri when he stepped off the ice. He hoped he was okay. He hoped that Yuuri was proud of him. Of his performance. 

Nothing else mattered as the sounds around him blended into a cacophony of noise and static. 

He fell into his final pose, gasping. 

__

Yuuri’s body was so heavy, and it took everything inside of him to push himself forward and lift his arms and dance like nothing was wrong. But Viktor was fine. There was nothing wrong, there was nothing for him to be worried about, he just needed to skate. 

He wasn’t sure he could even hear the music over the sound of his heart beating, blood rushing in his ears. His fingers were tingling and he moved, body moving to the music he hoped was right, giving his all. 

He just wanted to believe that he could do it. He wanted to prove Viktor right. More than anything. 

“An emotional performance from Yuuri Katsuki tonight!” 

He nearly jumped as he found himself in his final pose, the sound of the crowd and the rink becoming clear all at once and crashing down on him, all-encompassing and radiant. 

__

“The score for Yuri Plisetsky is 195.65. His final score is 298.77.”

__

“The score for Viktor Nikiforov is 194.99. His final score is 297.88.” 

__

“The score for Yuuri Katsuki is 207.45. His final score is 317.98.” 

__

Yuuri dragged his feet as he exited the terminal, eyes heavy and body sore. His backpack felt as if it were dragging him down and he fought the urge to just allow it to do so. He trudged on, holding back a yawn as he neared the exit. 

“Yuuri!” 

His head snapped up and he looked around blearily, desperately searching for that voice. His eyes finally settled on Viktor and before he knew it he was running. Viktor was running, too and in a moment their bodies collided, arms wrapping tight around each other and quiet sighs of relief left both of their lips. 

Viktor’s nose was pressed to the top of his head, his lips leaving quick kisses over his hair and smiling wide. “I missed you so much, солнышко,” he whispered. Yuuri nodded into his chest, holding him tighter and gripping the back of his jacket. “I’m so glad you’re home,” Viktor continued, “you did so well, I’m so proud of you.” 

His lips moved to press against Yuuri’s, eliciting a hum in response as Yuuri kissed him back eagerly. “You’re so beautiful,” Viktor breathed. 

“So are you,” Yuuri said, pulling away to look Viktor over. He looked tired, but happy. 

“Viktor stop running and slamming into people! Pork cutlet bowl, stop encouraging him! Don’t you care about his hip at all?” Yuri shouted, running up to them with a deep scowl. 

“Oh, Yurio, I didn’t know you would be here, too,” Yuuri said, pulling away from Viktor slightly to look over Yuri’s rumpled hair and clothes. 

“I wanted to tell you as soon as you got here that I’ll definitely kick your ass at World’s! That’s all!” 

“Congratulations on making the National team,” Yuuri said warmly, making Yuri’s cheeks tint  the slightest shade of pink, which he would adamantly deny. 

“Y-yeah well, good job not screwing up either,” he said. Yuuri pulled out of Viktor’s grasp and tugged Yuri into a tight hug. 

“Thanks, Yuri.” 

Yuri would swear up and down that he definitely didn’t hug Yuuri back. 

__

“Viktor,” Yuuri whispered the next day, gently shaking Viktor’s shoulder, trying not to scare him while he woke him up. Viktor squeezed his eyes shut tighter, laughing as Makkachin sat up and stood on his chest to get into a better position to give Yuuri very enthusiastic kisses. Yuuri laughed, scratching behind Makkachin’s ears and top of his head. 

“What time is it?” Viktor asked, sitting up on the couch and displacing Makkachin, much to the poodle’s very obvious distaste. 

“It’s five thirty, you were only asleep for a little while,” Yuuri said. 

Viktor nodded, the scent of pork finally seeming to find his nose and make him perk up. He looked toward the kitchen, then back at Yuuri, his eyes wide and hopeful. Yuuri blushed, shoulders rising as he reached up to rub the back of his neck. “S-since I won, a-and I missed your birthday, I thought we could…” he trailed off, shrugging. Viktor smiled so bright Yuuri had half a mind to cover his eyes. “It’s not as good as my mom’s but I think it’s—whoa!” 

Yuuri found himself sitting on Viktor’s lap, still dizzy from being pulled down so quickly. His arms instinctively wrapped around Viktor’s shoulders as lips pressed against his neck eagerly. 

“Yuuri, you’re the best, this is the best surprise,” Viktor murmured against his skin, laying light, sweeping kisses across his throat and making him turn his face away with a smile.  

“Viktor, that tickles!” he managed through breathy laughter. 

“Hmm, then how about this?” Viktor asked before biting down gently, scraping his teeth along Yuuri’s skin, goosebumps rising on Yuuri’s arms and neck. Yuuri shuddered. 

“V- _ Viktor _ ,” he said, his body still shaking with merriment. “Th-the katsudon,” he tried, still holding Viktor’s shoulders tightly. 

“It can wait a few more minutes,” he said, lips and teeth moving up to Yuuri’s jaw, and finally pressing against Yuuri’s lips. Yuuri hummed into the kiss, sighing through his nose as Viktor’s lips move languidly, unhurried. Viktor’s teeth caught his bottom lip and he laughed again. 

“The food will get cold,” he said, trying to be more serious despite the thrilled, contented smile on his lips. Viktor kissed him again. 

“We can reheat it.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew okay omg I'm so sorry this took SO LONG and it's not even a super long chapter. This depressive episode is really just kind of staying bad? But I'm working on it. Thank you all for your lovely words and support, and I'm really sorry that I haven't responded to comments, yet, I will soon, I promise!!! ;; 
> 
> This will sort of be a post and run because I have work, but I really hope that you all enjoy this chapter, I tried something a little different with the free skates and added in a third-tier, so I hope that works out. Plus more Otabek! I also made them a little shorter, bc you're all going to be reading the free skates two more times and I don't want them to start being boring;;; Please let me know what you think, and if you think that it worked;;; I don't know how my schedule is going to keep up with chapter posting, but the next two chapters will be quite long, so they may be a little late and I'm so sorry T^T But you can keep tabs on the progress at my new fancy yoi sideblog [@v-k-niliforv](https://v-k-niliforv.tumblr.com/) !! ((((( NOT MY BLOG ANYMORE, THAT BLOG IS ABANDONED. NEW ONE IS [HERE](https://the-katuki-niliforv.tumblr.com/) I'll keep a better log of the progress of the last two chapters there, you can also just say hi! I love meeting new people T^T
> 
> Translations:  
> солнышко - sunshine/my sunshine  
> моё золотце - my gold  
> Я тебя люблю - I love you  
> 愛してるよ - I love you
> 
> Thank you all again for your continued support and kudos and comments and just all of your presence it means the world to me <3 
> 
> If you have a moment to spare and something to say please leave me a comment and let me know how I'm doing! If you have any theories about how this fic will end, I'd also love to hear those ;) (i mean only if you do it's totally fine if you don't lmao;;; ) 
> 
> Anyway have a great day/night everyone and stay safe <3 
> 
> ~JD


	11. The Road to Worlds Final Stage: European Championships and Four Continents Commence!!!

“Yuuri,” Viktor whispered as he leaned down and ran his hand over Yuuri’s messy hair. Yuuri groaned, tugging the hotel blankets higher and squeezing his eyes shut tighter. Viktor smiled pressing a kiss to Yuuri’s forehead and brushing their noses together. “I know you’re still jetlagged, but everyone was going to dinner to catch up since the competition starts tomorrow. Do you want to go with them, солнышко?”

Yuuri’s eyes opened slowly, roving over Viktor’s face as he slowly awoke.

“Nnh right now?”

“Not for an hour or so,” Viktor said, kissing Yuuri’s nose before pulling away slightly and sitting up. “Emil recommended a place nearby for us all to meet at.”

Yuuri nodded as he slowly sat up and blinked sleepily. “Good evening, sleeping beauty,” Viktor murmured, leaning in to place a proper kiss to Yuuri’s lips. A pleased smile threatened to pull at his mouth as Yuuri responded sleepily, languid movements just making it harder for Viktor to keep himself from smiling.

“Hi,” Yuuri breathed out once Viktor pulled away and gently knocked their foreheads together. Yuuri’s hand moved down to Viktor’s hip, a slowly forming habit of his. “How is it today?”

“It’s fine, I warmed it up before I went out earlier.”

Yuuri nodded, pressing another kiss to Viktor’s lips before pulling away to stand and walk across the room to grab an outfit he could wear out.

“How do you feel about the competition? I know that quad lutz has still been…”

Viktor’s smile waned as he shrugged, watching Yuuri change his clothes pensively.

“I think it’ll be okay. I just...need to get over it.”

Yuuri’s hands on his cheeks startled him, and Viktor jumped, eyes flickering to Yuuri’s furrowed brow and pursed lips.

“It’s not a matter of...of forcing yourself to ‘get over it,’ Viktor. What happened...it was scary. No one expects you to be perfect or to not be affected by it.”

“They used to,” Viktor said. “People used to expect me to be completely perfect and now…”

“And isn’t that why you left in the first place?” Yuuri whispered, thumbs grazing over the apples of Viktor’s cheeks, leaving fading warmth in their wake as Viktor’s shoulders slumped and he nodded. “You’re a different person than you were before, you’re...you’re more. You’ll surprise them just by being who you are, and you don’t need to be perfect to do that.”

Viktor turned his head with a quiet laugh, pressing his lips to Yuuri’s palm and then to his ring, reaching up to squeeze Yuuri’s hands in his own.

“I’m so glad that I met you, Yuuri.”

“Me, too, Viktor.”

Viktor tugged Yuuri forward, leaning up expectantly and wrapping his arms around Yuuri’s waist once Yuuri leaned down to kiss him.

“Mm, let’s just skip dinner and stay here,” Viktor mumbled as he pulled away just enough to catch his breath. Yuuri laughed.

“You already told everyone we would join them, right?”

“I said I would ask you, we can just say you were too tired.”

Yuuri shook his head with a fond smile, pecking Viktor’s lips again before pulling away to finish putting his outfit on. It was only then that Viktor realized Yuuri had still been wearing his rumpled sleepshirt and his pants were unbuttoned.

“Come on, I know you’re excited to catch up with Chris, it’ll be fun.”

Viktor pushed himself off of the bed slowly, wincing slightly before striding forward and wrapping his arms around Yuuri’s waist and pressing his chest to Yuuri’s back.

“Alright, but I still think my idea sounds better,” he said, kissing Yuuri’s neck and reveling in the sweet laughter it drew from him. Yuuri indulged him for a while longer, sighing into slow kisses as hands ran over strong shoulders and teeth clacked together.

A sharp knock on the door made Yuuri jump away, head snapping to the door with a small frown. He glanced at Viktor before looking at the door again when another knock sounded.

“Oi, lovebirds! We’re all gonna leave soon!” Yuri shouted and Viktor tried to bite back a smile. Yuuri’s shoulders slumped with a laugh, walking forward and pulling the hotel door open. Yuri huffed as he stepped inside and looked Yuuri over suspiciously. “You should fix your hair before anyone else has to see it.”

Yuuri’s hands shot to his hair, glancing between Viktor and Yuri before rushing into the bathroom. Viktor wished that he could have looked at the lovely flush on his face for just a moment more, but gave his attention to Yuri when the younger skater cleared his throat. “Your hair’s pretty bad, too.”

Viktor grinned, flipping his hair.

“Maybe that’s what I want it to look like, Yurio.”

Yuri scoffed, crossing his arms and looking away.

“The press has been going wild since you dropped that bomb last week, and your fans keep commenting on my Instagram asking how you are. It’s really annoying.”

“Well I had to say something eventually, it would have been worse if someone leaked photos of me going to my physical therapy sessions or something.”

“Whatever,” Yuri sighed, giving a half nod in agreement. “Is the pork cutlet bowl ready for Four Continents?” he asked after a moment, shoulders tensing as soon as he did before he added “I just want to make sure he’ll be worth beating again at Worlds, that’s all.”

Viktor just kept smiling, moving to sit down on the bed as he waiting for Yuuri to reemerge from the bathroom.

“His programs are only getting better, I think that he’ll do very well. He’s definitely a worthy opponent.”

“Does it look better? How’s the back?” Yuuri asked as he opened the door to the bathroom, cheeks still pleasantly red and making Viktor’s stomach warm up at the sight.

“You look beautiful,” Viktor said, earning a scowl from Yuri as he stalked forward and pushed Yuuri back into the bathroom.

“You’re both hopeless.”

By the time the trio finally exited the hotel room Yuri had managed to make them both look presentable. Yuuri still looked embarrassed even with his fingers laced with Viktor’s. As soon as they entered the lobby they were met by Chris and Mila grinning at them.

“Have a long conversation about whether or not to go out, hm?” Chris asked, sidling up to Yuuri’s side and dropping an arm around his shoulders.

“Were you two being safe?” Mila asked as she moved to Viktor’s side, replacing Yuri as he walked away as quickly as possible. Mila patted Viktor’s hip as she leaned against his side and he laughed softly.

Yuri shouting drew the small group’s attention before they were ushered out the door behind Emil who wore a bright grin, and led them to his chosen dinner destination. Yuuri’s hand in Viktor’s was warm and comfortable as they walked and Viktor never wanted to let go.

__

“And welcome our next skater of the evening, Christophe Giacometti of Switzerland.”

Chris skated to center ice with a flourish, scattered applause still sounding until his music started playing over the speakers.

“He came in third at the Grand Prix Final this year, and it seems he’s using that momentum and aiming for gold tonight.”

Chris’ body pulsed as he danced across the ice. Any competition could be his last, and he wanted to compete against Viktor and Yuuri as long as he could. At the very least, he wanted to give them both a run for their money.

Viktor was only going to be around for another two seasons, at best, and Chris wasn’t sure he would last a whole lot longer either.

“And he’ll start off his jumps with a quadruple lutz!”

_“Do you really think you’ll be okay for another season after this one?” Chris asked the night they all went out to dinner. Viktor had smiled, his press smile that he always used when he wanted to avoid a conversation._

_“I have to try, don’t I?” he asked. Chris sighed, slumping in his chair, eyes darting between Viktor and Yuuri who was caught up in a conversation with Mila and Sara._

_“Viktor,” Chris started, leaning his cheek in his hand, elbow propped on top of the table, “you know that I feel the most motivated when I’m skating against you, but I wouldn’t want to see you completely self-destruct either. I get that you want to keep surprising people and go out on your own terms, but is this really the best way to go about it?”_

_“And what alternatives are there?”_

_“You could just skate up to the Final. I just don’t know if aiming for the Olympics is really the best idea. I don’t want to see you push yourself until you break.”_

_“I think that already happened.”_

_“The Final wasn’t about you pushing yourself too hard, that was about taking care of yourself, which you’ve learned to do now. Everything that’s happened so far you’ve come back from. I’m just...worried that the next thing won’t be the same.”_

_“You’re very serious tonight, Chris,” Viktor said, deflecting again and driving Chris up the wall. Chris huffed, taking a sip of wine from his glass, letting the conversation drop as he turned to talk to Georgi._

“Gorgeous quad lutz!”

“He’s really pulling out all the stops today, this performance is definitely the best he’s had so far this season.”

_Chris turned back to Viktor after their food arrived, eyes flicking to Yuuri to ensure the he was still caught up in conversation before meeting Viktor’s again._

_“He was really affected by your accident after that lutz,” he said cryptically. Viktor just sighed, pushing his food around slowly._

_“I know that. But if I just quit he’ll blame himself even more.”_

_“Okay, do_ you _want to keep skating? If you’re only doing this to—”_

_“No, I do, of course I do. I want to skate as long as possible. And I want to show him that I can keep going, too. I want to go for one more season.”_

_Chris huffed an empty laugh, nodding his head slowly._

_“I understand. Just take care of yourself.”_

_“Yuuri wouldn’t have it any other way,” Viktor said, reaching out and grabbing Yuuri’s hand. Yuuri glanced over with a bright grin before turning back to Mila who gave him a knowing smirk._

“All of his jumps were successful!”

__

“The score for Christophe Giacometti is 103.57.”

__

Yuuri’s eyes tracked Viktor as he warmed up his hip, glancing to Yuri for a moment and seeing him jogging in place to keep his body warm. With a nod to himself, Yuuri walked to Yuri’s side silently, waiting to see if the younger skater removed his headphones and acknowledged him. When he did, Yuuri smiled.

“Your jumps have gotten really solid again, you’ll be okay today.”

Yuri scoffed, scowling at the floor as if it had personally offended him.

“I know that.”

“You’re amazingly talented, and I wouldn’t mind if I lost to you again.”

“You’d better not be saying that because you’re getting cold feet, pork cutlet bowl. I want to beat both of you at your best.”

Yuuri put his hands up in surrender with an appeasing smile.

“Of course, Viktor and I are both going to bring our best, don’t worry.”

Before Yuri could respond, Yakov nodded him over, ushering him through the curtain. “Yuri! Davai!” Yuuri shouted and didn’t miss the small hint of a smile on Yuri’s face as he turned away and stepped into the rink.

Two warm arms wrapped around Yuuri’s waist, a cold nose nuzzling at his neck. As the silence stretched on, he almost thought it was Chris before Viktor’s voice hummed in his ear.

“Will you wish me good luck, too, Yuuri?” he asked, leaving feathery kisses along Yuuri’s jaw. Yuuri smiled, hand reaching up to trail his fingers along Viktor’s jaw.

“Of course.”

Yuuri could feel a faint heat rising on his cheeks as Viktor continued to press sweet kisses along his skin and laughed.

“Did you finish warming up?” he asked, feeling Viktor nodding against his neck. Yuuri nodded back, pulling away from Viktor enough to take his hand and pull him toward the rink. “Let’s watch Yurio skate.”

__

“And welcome our next skater, Yuri Plisetsky of Russia. He told us that he used the time he spent away from the Grand Prix Final to adjust to a growth spurt that threw off his jumps and spins. He seems determined to take home the gold tonight.”

Yuri cleared his mind, blocking out all thoughts of the rink and people around him. It was just him and his music and the ice. He could do this.

_“That was perfect,” Otabek said, hand up for a high-five, which Yuri readily accepted with a bright smile adorning his lips. “You’ll be fine for the rest of the season.”_

_“I’ll make a huge comeback at Worlds,” Yuri said. Otabek smiled softly, nodding._

_“I’ll give it my all, too.”_

_Yuri nodded back, reaching for a water bottle and taking a few sips. Visiting Otabek in Kazakhstan had been just what he needed to get back into the right mindset to skate. “Are you still worried about them?” Otabek asked, drawing Yuri’s attention up to him again. “Viktor and the other Yuuri.”_

_Yuri shrugged, looking away._

_“They’re not the_ biggest _idiots in the world...they’ll probably figure it out.”_

_Otabek smiled._

“Quad sal! A little shaky on the landing, but an overall beautiful jump!”

 _“Why are we even here?” Yuri groaned, setting his bag on the bleachers of the empty rink, too late for anyone else to be practicing. “Aren’t you, like,_ not _supposed to be overworking? The European Championships are right around the corner.”_

_Viktor spun in a lazy circle at the center of the ice with a soft smile._

_“I asked Mila and Georgi to take Yuuri out sightseeing.”_

_“How is that supposed to answer my—?”_

_“I want to surprise him at Worlds. I have something in mind.”_

_“You know that he would love watching you skate even if you didn’t land a single jump and forgot your entire step sequence, right?” Yuri asked, leaning back against the benches and sprawling out._

_“I know,” Viktor said, smiling with a soft expression in his eyes. “But I feel like I need to do this.”_

_“Fine, whatever, what’s this idea you have?” Yuri asked, feigning utter disinterest, despite curiosity getting the better of him._

_“I want to perfect my quad loop.”_

_“Are you crazy? Literally_ two _people have landed that in competition!” Yuri argue, sitting up. Viktor’s ceaseless smile made him clench his fists._

_“Why not make it three? I nearly had it before I left to coach Yuuri. I know that I can do it. Will you promise not to tell him?”_

_Yuri looked Viktor over with a sneer before huffing and sitting back against the benches again._

_“Only because I know that you’ll hurt yourself if I’m not here to watch you.”_

“And a final combination spin, truly an incredible performance!”

__

“The score for Yuri Plisetsky is 101.87.”

__

“Our final skater of the evening is Viktor Nikiforov of Russia. His program was inspired by his fiance, Yuuri Katsuki.”

Viktor moved around the rink in a quick circle, waving to the roaring crowd with a bright smile. “After his performance at the Russian Nationals it appears that he is fully healed from the head injury he sustained at the Grand Prix Final.”

Viktor took his starting pose, a warm sense of calmness washing over his body slowly until he felt alone in the rink. Yuuri would be watching him. It was just him and Yuuri and his music. He wanted to show Yuuri that he could do his short program, that he was still _the_ Viktor Nikiforov.

When his music started, it almost felt like the first time he had competed in the senior division, the raw passion bubbling in his stomach and sending pulsing heat through his arms and legs, melting away any stiffness he may have felt.

_“Mr. Nikiforov, will you be staying on for another season? Will you be competing in the 2018 Olympics?”_

_Viktor was smiling, he always smiled at press conferences. Yakov stood behind him, ready to field questions if the need arose. He could see Yuuri standing by the door, an unassuming presence in the room, but bringing a sense of calm to Viktor’s racing mind._

_“Yes, I plan to make next season my official last season. After that point I will solely act as Yuuri’s coach.”_

_“Mr. Nikiforov, rumors have been going around by fans that you have been dealing with a separate injury from the one you sustained at the Grand Prix Final, do you have anything to say about those?”_

_Viktor’s heart jumped to his throat as his stomach churned. He knew this question would be coming, he had countless questions on all of his social medias asking him about it, asking if he was okay. Phichit had messaged him a thread with detailed theories about the nature of his health. It wasn’t right, but it was still incredibly detailed and close enough to make him uneasy._

_He didn’t want anything to come out because of rumors or theories or magazine speculation. He wanted to be the one to say it, and tell his fans and the skating world directly. That being said, he was still terrified._

_How would everyone react? How would his fans see him after they knew? Would his image change? Would people talk to him differently? Would his fans treat him differently? Would they be able to see that he was still the same skater he always was once they knew?_

_Yakov reached out to pat his shoulder and Viktor nodded gratefully before taking a slow breath and meeting the reporter’s eyes._

_“Those rumors are true, in a way,” he said, feeling the breath being sapped from his lungs at the prolonged, awed silence that followed. “I was diagnosed with mild osteoarthritis in my right hip a few days after the NHK Trophy ended. I’ve been working on regaining the same range of movement I used to have over the course of the season.”_

_“Was this the cause of the accident at the Final?” another reported shouted, standing up and clutching his notepad. Viktor’s hands clenched at the podium before he could meet the reporter’s gaze and nod._

_“My hip wasn’t properly warmed up and it affected my performance, yes.”_

_“Mr. Nikiforov, could this incident happen again, then?” another reporter at the back of the crowd asked as the growing chatter began to fill the room. Viktor sighed, still doing his best to keep smiling. To just last a while longer._

_“I think that I’ve gotten a better understanding of the state of my illness now. Unless something unexpected occurs, I don’t think anything like the events of the Grand Prix Final will happen for the rest of my skating career.”_

_“And what, exactly, are the chances of something unexpected happening?”_

_“What is your reason for staying on another season with this sort of condition?”_

_“What does Yuuri Katsuki have to say about your decision to stay on for another season?”_

_“Has skating negatively affected your ability to coach Yuuri Katsuki?”_

_“That’s all the questions we have time for,” Yakov said, stepping in front of Viktor and ushering him toward the door where Yuuri was waiting with a pinched expression on his face, a glare set on the group of reporters._

_“Your fans will support you, don’t worry about that,” Yuuri told him, his steadying presence making Viktor’s heart stop beating quite so loudly in his ears. Yuuri gripped his hand and Viktor nodded with a more genuine smile._

Viktor neared the end of his step sequence, the exhilaration still pumping through him when suddenly all he could see was Yuuri crying. Yuuri worrying about him, scared, anxious.

“It looks like his planned quad lutz turned into a triple!”

Viktor wobbled on impact and his hip protested the awkward landing. He clenched his teeth but kept skating, pushing himself to continue. It was fine, it would be fine. Yuuri was there with him, his life and love was watching him, he could do this, his hip be damned.

_“Hey, Viktor, could I talk to you?” Phichit had asked the last night they had all been in Paris for the Trophée de France. Viktor nodded, feeling a little queasy as he glanced to Yuuri across the room. Yuri was standing next to him with a scowl set on Yuuri’s glass of champagne. Viktor supposed Yuuri would be okay for a few minutes, especially since Yuri was with him._

_“Sure, what is it?”_

_Phichit tilted his head toward a more secluded side of the room and Viktor followed after him._

_“I just wanted to make it clear that what happened at the restaurant wasn’t anything against you,” Phichit said. He looked flustered and Viktor couldn’t help but feel a little worried. “You make Yuuri happier than I’ve_ ever _seen him, and I know that you’ve been helping him with his anxiety a lot, I just...that attack...I just thought having anyone else around would make it worse. It’s not that I don’t, like, trust you with him, or something. I helped Yuuri through them a lot when we were roommates, is all.”_

_“No, I understand. Don’t worry about it,” Viktor said quickly, shaking his head. “You knew what was best for the situation when I didn’t have all the information, really, it’s fine.”_

_Phichit let a big, gusty sigh leave his lips, shoulders slumping as a cheery smile spread over his lips._

_“Okay, great!” he said. “I really am glad that you two found each other,” Phichit said after a moment, grabbing both of Viktor’s shoulders and squeezing them. “He’s so happy when he’s with you, and I’m grateful to you.”_

_“He’s done the same for me,” Viktor said, glancing back over his shoulder and smiling fondly once his gaze caught Yuuri’s. Yuuri smiled and waved at them. Phichit waved back, dropping his arm over Viktor’s shoulders and pulling his phone out._

_“So, are either of you gonna get smashed for this banquet, or do you usually save that for the Final?”_

_Viktor laughed._

Viktor pushed off into his last camel spin, heart pounding, blood rushing in his ears. His body felt hot despite the incessant chill, a pleasant burn settling deep in his lungs. When he fell into his final pose, his body buzzed. The ice felt new again. His eyes searched the crowd until he saw Yuuri standing behind a begrudging Yakov at the rink gate. Yuuri smiled at him so bright his heart felt close to bursting.

He did his usual skate around the rink, waving and bowing and collecting one or two items from the ice before joining Yakov and Yuuri.

Yuuri’s arms immediately enveloped him and he sighed into the warm, comforting embrace.

“Viktor,” Yuuri whispered, voice suspiciously thick and wobbly. “You were so beautiful.” Yuuri pulled away as he spoke, hands reaching up to cup Viktor’s jaw and pull him down for a gentle kiss.

The applause that followed made Viktor grin, feeling the way Yuuri’s cheeks heated up against the tip of his nose as it pressed against Yuuri’s skin. Viktor broke the kiss and hugged Yuuri to his chest for another long moment. Yakov pushed them toward the Kiss and Cry with a huff.

“The score for Viktor Nikiforov, please.”

Viktor squeezed Yuuri’s hand beside him and Yuuri squeezed back.

“The score for Viktor Nikiforov is 105.46.”

__

“The final scores for the European Championships are as follows,”

 **Viktor Nikiforov** **1st** **105.46** **207.78** **313.24**

 **Christophe Giacometti** **2nd** **103.57** **200.39** **303.96**

 **Yuri Plisetsky** **3rd** **101.87** **201.77** **303.64**

 **Michele Crispino** **4th** **95.69** **199.32** **295.01**

 **Emil Nekola** **5th** **90.79** **195.69** **286.48**

 **Georgi Popovich** **6th** **102.60** **170.92** **273.52**

 **...** **  
** __

Viktor gasped as his back met the wall of them hotel room, Yuuri’s lips warm and hurried against his own. Viktor willingly melted into the kiss, letting Yuuri take what he wanted, hands roaming a touch frantically. Yuuri’s cheeks were a deep, pretty pink and Viktor wanted nothing more than to give him anything he could possibly ever need or want.

Yuuri’s lips dragged against Viktor’s, his breath heavy as he whispered “you’re so beautiful,” against flushed, warm skin.

Viktor chuckled, pressing more fervent kisses down Yuuri’s neck.

“So are you, моё золотце.”

Yuuri shook his head, dragging Viktor’s head up with a hand on his jaw and pressing their lips together again. Viktor let his eyes slip closed as Yuuri consumed him, the warmth almost overwhelming as it made his head spin. His stomach flipped as Yuuri’s hands drifted down to settled on his hips, fingers slipping under his shirt and brushing his skin.

“Do you even know how incredible you are, Viktor?” Yuuri asked, letting kiss-swollen lips rest for a moment as he caught his breath, eyes piercing and sending a rush of heat up Viktor’s spine. He smirked.

“Remind me?”

Yuuri breathed a laugh that was quickly swallowed by another deep kiss. Yuuri’s body was flush against Viktor’s and all Viktor could bring himself to do was reach up to tangle his hands in Yuuri’s soft hair.

“Every time you skate, you take my breath away,” Yuuri said, lips on Viktor’s jaw, leaving light kisses trailing down his neck. Viktor wheezed, but it almost sounded like a laugh.

“Hmm, just when I skate?” he asked. Yuuri’s lips met Viktor’s once again, the sweet ache setting in and making Viktor’s toes curl.

“You already know the answer to that.”

“Mm, but I like to hear you say it.”

Viktor grinned at the way Yuuri tried to hold in a bout of laughter, kissing him when it was too much. Yuuri’s lips moved against his like they were made for each other, like Yuuri was the only person he was ever meant to kiss and his chest burned with a deep sense of pride. The joy radiating off his skin was almost tangible, and he was sure Yuuri could feel it too.

Their kisses turned languid as the minutes stretched and Viktor desperately wished for the moment to never end. Yuuri made a soft grunt before pulling away slightly, drawing a soft whine from Viktor’s lungs. Without responding, Yuuri’s hands slid down until their brushed the backs of Viktor’s thighs.

In a fluid motion Viktor’s feet left the ground and he was pressed more firmly against the wall behind him, the pressure between the wall and Yuuri giving him a rush, his head spinning, arms gripping Yuuri’s shoulder on instinct. “ _Oh!_ ” he murmured when Yuuri’s lips returned with renewed vigor, his hips pushing into Viktor’s with a hint of mischief in his eyes. Viktor grinned. “Hmm, Yuuri, maybe you should do the lifts in our next pair-skating gala program,” he said, legs wrapping securely around Yuuri’s hips.

Yuuri stared at him for a long moment, eyes wide, before he descended into a fit of muted chuckles, leaning in to bury his face in Viktor’s neck. Viktor’s hands returned to his hair, holding back his own laughter as Yuuri desperately tried to keep him up and tamp down his shaking body.

“I didn’t want you lifting me because of your hip, and then you..” he trailed off, shaking his head and smiling widely against Viktor’s throat.

“Mm, you’re very romantic, моя любовь.”

Yuuri scoffed, pulling back enough to meet Viktor’s bright eyes for a moment before pressing a soft, loving kiss to his pliant mouth. Viktor responded easily, whining softly at the way Yuuri’s lips dragged over his so slowly. His heart would surely burst, he had no doubt.

“I love you so much, Viktor,” Yuuri breathed and Viktor nodded, desperate not to let the kiss end. Not yet. He kissed Yuuri harder, taking what Yuuri would give him eagerly.

“I love you, too,” Viktor whispered, feeling odd saying it in English after so long. He pulled back and pressed kisses over Yuuri’s jaw. “Yuuri, моя любовь, моё золотце, I love you, too,” he said, as he left kisses over Yuuri’s cheeks and temples and forehead. “So much.”

__

The Four Continents Championship arrived in a blink and before Viktor could really comprehend it, he was watching Yuuri step off the ice after his warm-up. He framed Yuuri’s face with his hands, looking him over carefully.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine, Viktor, don’t worry,” Yuuri said, reaching up to place his hands over Viktor’s. “I slept last night, I think...I think I’m actually feeling ready for this.”

Viktor beamed.

“I’m so proud of you, Yuuri.”

Yuuri laughed.

“Yuuri! Viktor!” Phichit called out, walking toward them with his phone in hand and a vibrant, contagious grin on his face.

“Phichit, it’s so good to see you!” Yuuri said, accepting a quick hug before returning to Viktor’s side. Phichit’s gaze fell to Viktor and his smile softened.

“I’m glad that you told everyone about what’s going on. And the rest of us skaters are behind you wanting to skate another season.”

“Thank you,” Viktor replied, voice soft. Phichit just nodded as if waving the thanks off and pulled his phone up.

“Okay, pre-short program selfie!” he said, and Viktor’s body relaxed against Yuuri’s side as Phichit snapped the photo. “Perfect! I’ll see you two, and let you get back to what you were doing,” he said as he shot Yuuri a significant look and walked away. Yuuri blushed so quickly Viktor jumped a little.

__

“The score for Phichit Chulanont is 100.49.”

__

“So, you’re staying on for another season, then?” JJ asked with a grin as he waltzed toward Yuuri and Viktor as Yuuri was finishing his warm-up.

“I plan to,” Viktor said. JJ grinned, _beaming_ almost.

“Great!” he said. “Next season we’ll both be back in top form, then we’ll be able to see who’s the real king,” he said. Viktor was fairly certain it was a joke, but he wasn’t entirely positive, so he tilted his head as a response. JJ didn’t seem to mind as he walked off. Yuuri glanced over to Viktor with a small frown but Viktor just shrugged.

__

“The score for Jean-Jacques Leroy is 103.74.”

__

“Oh, Otabek!” Yuuri called as he happened upon the quiet skater on his way to find Viktor who had managed to disappear from his sight completely. “How are you?”

Otabek gave Yuuri a quick thumbs-up and Yuuri just smiled, nodding. “Yuri wanted to be here, but Yakov didn’t want him to miss any time he could spend practicing.”

“He told me. He works very hard.”

“He does,” Yuuri agreed easily, finding himself smiling. “He’s already so amazing, it scares me a bit to think about what kind of skater he’ll be in five years.”

Otabek nodded seriously with a soft grunt.

“He is very strong,” Otabek said. Yuuri nodded again.

“I’m glad he has a friend like you,” he said after a hesitant pause. Otabek’s lips turned up just so and Yuuri felt a bit proud of himself.

__

“The score for Otabek Altin is 110.21.”

__

Yuuri could feel the ring on his finger gripping his skin comfortably, and took a deep breath. He looked up, leaning on the boards and meeting Viktor’s gaze. Yuuri laced their fingers together.

“Watch me.”

“As if I could look away,” Viktor said. Yuuri nodded, letting his hand slip away from Viktor’s as he skated to the center of the ice.

“And our next skater on the ice is Yuuri Katsuki of Japan! He took first at the Grand Prix Final and I’m sure he’s looking for gold again here!”

The crowd grew so silent Yuuri almost thought something horrible had happened. But everyone’s eyes were on him, the crowd hushed, holding their breath and waiting for his first movement. He almost wanted to hold his breath with them as he waited for his music to start.

The first note echoed in the vast space and suddenly there was nothing else. Yuuri moved as if it was the only thing his body was meant to do.

_“Why didn’t you tell me you were in pain?” Yuuri finally asked on the last night that they were in Hasetsu, with Viktor nestled against his chest, the bedroom dark and the inn quiet. Viktor was silent for long, ticking moments before he took in a shuddering breath._

_“I didn’t...I didn’t want to disappoint you. Or worry you. I didn’t want...I didn’t want you to see me differently. To see me...broken.”_

_“You’re not broken,” Yuuri said, looking down to Viktor and meeting his gaze with a hard stare. “You could never disappoint me.”_

_“You say that, but I’ve already let you down with…”_

_“Viktor, you could never let me down with your skating. I don’t care how well you do, just watching you skate is enough for me. It doesn’t matter how many times you fall or how much of your step sequence you forget or do wrong. It’s watch_ you _skating that I love.”_

_Viktor was silent as he nodded, body pressing impossibly closer to Yuuri’s. Yuuri pressed a kiss to the top of his head, running his fingers through Viktor’s soft, shiny hair. “Please remember that,” he added and Viktor nodded again._

_They remained still and silent for so long that Yuuri thought Viktor had fallen asleep when he felt gentle kisses pressing against his chest and smiled softly. He pulled Viktor’s head up to press a chaste kiss to Viktor’s lips before pulling back and meeting his eyes again. “Don’t...just don’t lie to me anymore, please just tell me if something hurts. Okay?”_

_“Okay, Yuuri.”_

“Quad flip! Excellent!”

_“You’re still running late at night,” Viktor had said a week before they would both leave for their respective National Championships. Yuuri’s shoulders tensed as he looked at his hands and adamantly refused to meet Viktor’s gaze. “I’m not mad, Yuuri,” he added, softer. “I’m just worried that you’re not getting enough sleep.”_

_“It’s fine, I’m fine. I run because I can’t sleep.”_

_“What’s going on, talk to me.”_

_When Yuuri built up the courage to meet Viktor’s gaze, his stomach twisted again. The bruises was still visible against Viktor’s skin and it made a hot, sticky guilt settle in the pit of Yuuri’s stomach._

_“I just can’t stop it from hurting,” he blurted out and Viktor blinked slowly before shifting closer to Yuuri, his hands reaching out, asking permission to touch. Yuuri nodded frantically, accepting the comfort Viktor provided._

_“What’s hurting?”_

_“_ Everything _,” Yuuri breathed. “Every time I think about your injury or-or your hip everything hurts and I can’t sleep. I know you’ve told me not to blame myself and I’m trying but it hurts.”_

 _“Oh, Yuuri,” Viktor whispered pulling Yuuri’s face into his chest and holding him as tightly as he could. Yuuri knew he was getting the collar of Viktor’s shirt wet as hot, angry tears slid down his cheeks, but Viktor just held him closer as he made to pull away. “We’ll work on this together, and we’ll be okay._ You’ll _be okay.”_

Yuuri stood into a Y spin, breath heavy and ears buzzing with the sound of music and skates on ice. He moved into his final pose with purpose, allowing the rush of adrenaline to pump through his body, welcoming the sounds of the crowd around him.

“Wow, what an amazing performance from Yuuri Katsuki! We wouldn’t expect anything less!”

The crowd was deafening, but Yuuri’s only focus was on the rink gate where Viktor waited for him with his arms wide and welcoming. Yuuri skated to him without having to think about it, laughing as soon as he was wrapped in Viktor’s arms. Viktor spun him around in his glee, pressing exaggerated kisses all over Yuuri’s face.

“You’ll need to work on that final combination spin for Worlds,” he said softly between kisses. “Your form was sloppy.”

All Yuuri could do was laugh harder, bringing Viktor in for a quick kiss on the lips before pulling him to the Kiss and Cry with a brilliant blush, waving nervously at the crowd as they went.

__

“The score for Yuuri Katsuki is 107.59.”

__

“The final results for the Four Continents Championship are as follows,”

 **Yuuri Katsuki** **1st** **107.59** **212.39** **319.98**

 **Otabek Altin** **2nd** **110.21** **196.27** **306.48**

 **Jean-Jacques Leroy** **3rd** **103.74** **201.91** **305.65**

 **Phichit Chulanont** **4th** **100.49** **200.91** **301.40**

 **Seung-gil Lee** **5th** **97.23** **177.75** **274.98**

 **Leo de la Iglesia** **6th** **94.90** **167.83** **262.73**

 **Guang Hong Ji** **7th** **90.56** **170.78** **261.34**

 **Kenjirou Minami** **8th** **85.22** **166.47** **251.69**

**...**

__

[image]

 **♥** ** _christophe-gc_** _,_ ** _+guanghongji+_** and **60 others**

 **phichit+chu** Pre-Short Program Warm Up!! (feat. Viktor + Yuuri) #viktornikiforov #yuurikatsuki  #phichit #Gangneung #4continents #warmup

_View all 56 comments_

4 hours ago

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oOHMYG OD. I'm so sorry T^T but here it is!!! Does this chapter feel rushed??? I'm so sorry if it does oh man I really didn't mean for it to, but it ended up shorter than I thought it would and now I'm worried. I'm gonna go through in the morning and do edits, but i'm tired and just wanted to get this out tonight so this is it for now T^T (and i SWEAR i will answer comments in the morning as well) ((i feel like everyone is nodding WAY more than they should, requires further investigation, will confirm in the morning))
> 
> IT'S ALMOST OVER YOU GUYS. AND!! this is officially the longest thing I've written in my life, just bypassing the very bad novel I wrote when i was like 12. woo! 
> 
> The last chapter is going to be SUPER long i already know it will be, so in order to give myself adequate time to write it and get it right, expect the last update to be on ~~Friday March 24th~~ Saturday March 25th!! (sorry for the pushback i just need a little more time to make it as good as possible, i hope you can forgive me;;) If there are any changes, I will post updates on my tumblr [@v-k-niliforv](https://v-k-niliforv.tumblr.com/) !! ((TUMBLR IS NOT THERE ANYMORE. NEW TUMBLR IS [HERE](https://the-katuki-niliforv.tumblr.com/) (you can also just go and talk to me if you want i'm super awkward but i like meeting new people!!) 
> 
> On the last chapter I'll also share more about the upcoming fics I have planned after this so stay tuned for that, I have a lot of fun plans!!! 
> 
> As always I'm not an expert in figure skating or russian so please let me know if i screwed something up T^T (also! the reason I focused on the sps in this chap is bc the next one will revolve around he fs-es for everyone and i don't want this to be like. boring T^T )
> 
> Translations:  
> солнышко - sunshine/my sunshine  
> моё золотце - my gold  
> Моя любовь - my love
> 
> THank you all so much again for all your support with your comments and kudos and just general presence it means the WORLD to me!! (ALSO??? WE HIT OVER 300 SUBS???? WHO ARE YOU ALL??? I LOVE YOU???)
> 
> If you have a minute to spare and something to say please leave me a comment and let me know how I'm doing! Are you still liking the fic??? are you sad it's almost over??? *gasp* are you GLAD it's almost over??? let me know! <3
> 
> Have a good and safe week everyone <3
> 
> ~JD


	12. The World Championships Arrive!! Fight For Your Place on the Podium!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end!! I hope you’ve all had as much fun reading as i have writing this! If you still want to see my presence from time to time, come visit me on tumblr [@v-k-niliforv](https://v-k-niliforv.tumblr.com/) ((( I HAVE ABANDONED THAT TUMBLR! IF YOU WANT TO COME TALK TO ME PLEASE PLEASE DO IT [HERE](https://the-katuki-niliforv.tumblr.com/)!! I hope you all enjoy this and thanks for sticking with me through this journey <3

“Yuuri!” Viktor called from the bathroom, distress shaking his voice. Yuuri leapt up from where he was lying across their bed and scrambled into the bathroom. He leaned on the door and looked Viktor over frantically, searching for some kind of injury. Viktor was standing in front of the mirror with a deep frown, meeting Yuuri’s eyes through the reflection. “This is terrible,” he said, and Yuuri’s heart slammed in his chest as his feet moved him closer. His hands reached out to Viktor’s hips. 

“What’s wrong? Is it your hip? Are you in pain? Will you be able to skate? Should I call Yakov?”

Viktor shook his head, turning around and lifting his hair up to show Yuuri his forehead. 

“I think it’s getting bigger.” 

“W-wha—?” Yuuri’s lips parted as he stared at Viktor, eyes roving over his face as his eyebrows furrowed and his head tilted. 

“My forehead,” Viktor clarified, as if it helped the situation. “I think it’s grown since the European Championships. My hairline is  _ receding _ , Yuuri.” His voice was urgent and serious and all Yuuri could do was stare at him. 

They stared at each other in complete silence before Yuuri cracked and let out a startled laugh. Viktor’s frown deepened. “ _ Yuuri! _ ” 

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri chuckled, and covered his mouth in a poor attempt to quell the sound. “But I thought you were hurt or-or in pain and it’s just  _ this _ ,” he said. Viktor pouted, hands falling to his sides and his hair flopping over his left eye. 

“ _ Just _ ?” he asked. “Yuuri, you’re so mean.” 

Yuuri was still snickering softly as he reached out to pull Viktor closer, pressing hurried kisses over his forehead and squeezing his waist in a tight hug. Viktor accepted the embrace, leaning his chin on Yuuri’s shoulder when he pulled back. Yuuri ran his fingers through Viktor’s hair, smiling lips pressing against his temple. 

“I was  _ worried _ ,” Yuuri said, voice gentle and a smile still evident in his tone. “I don’t care how big your forehead is, or how little hair you have.” 

“But I’m not even  _ thirty _ , Yuuri.” 

Yuuri laughed again and he could feel Viktor’s pouting lips press against his neck, feel his breath brushing his skin when he huffed softly, “I’m so old.” 

“You’re  _ not  _ old and you already know that,” Yuuri said. “You’ve had the same forehead for years, you’re just paranoid.” Yuuri pulled away again to press another barrage of kisses over Viktor’s face. “Besides, I like your forehead.” 

Viktor’s shoulders slumped as he leaned further into Yuuri’s embrace, cracking a smile as Yuuri’s lips pressed against his own. He hummed into the kiss, eyes closing as Yuuri’s warmth consumed him. A moment later, the feeling was gone, leaving him with a slight chill. “Your hip  _ is  _ okay, though, right?” Yuuri asked, hands slipping over Viktor’s waist to settle on his hips. 

“ _ Yes _ , солнышко, my hip is fine, I warmed it up and stretched earlier,” Viktor said, his eyes brightening and his body unwinding slowly. Yuuri nodded with a smile, pecking Viktor’s lips quickly before pulling away to beam up at him. 

“I’m so excited to be able to skate on the same ice as you again.” 

Viktor grinned, leaning in and bumping their noses together. 

“And I’m excited to take my world record back from you, mon soleil.” 

A spark ignited in Yuuri’s eyes before he pressed another searing kiss to Viktor’s lips. 

__

“The short program scores for the competitors is as follows,” 

**Viktor Nikiforov** **1st** **110.39**

 **Christophe Giacometti** **2nd** **104.90**

 **Yuuri Katsuki** **3rd** **102.21**

 **Otabek Altin** **4th** **102.19**

 **Yuri Plisetsky** **5th** **101.44**

 **Jean-Jacques Leroy** **6th** **100.66**

 **Emil Nekola** **7th** **99.89**

 **Georgi Popovich** **8th** **99.60**

 **Phichit Chulanont** **9th** **99.49**

 **Michele Crispino** **10th** **97.35**

 **Leo de la Iglesia** **11th** **95.96**

 **Seung-gil Lee** **12th** **95.17**

 **Guang Hong Ji** **13th** **93.58**

 **Kenjirou Minami** **14th** **81.47**

**...**

__

“It’s fine, this is fine,” Yuuri whispered that night, pacing in front of the bed, a hand in his hair making the slicked-back style he had been sporting look rumpled and tired. Viktor sighed, reaching out despite the space between them and trying not to jostle the ice pack balanced on his hip. He moved his fingers, as if willing Yuuri to stop moving and come to his side. 

“Yuuri, it’s just the short program. The free skate is still tomorrow, everything will be okay. You did well,” he said. 

“That’s not—I’m not—it’s—!” Yuuri shook his head, slumping his shoulders as he sat down on the bed beside Viktor, defeated. His hands dragged over his face, displacing his glasses as they did. Yuuri hardly noticed as he sighed and closed his eyes. “I  _ know  _ that I know this program, I just can’t help but worry about messing up in front of everyone again or making a fool of myself.” 

Viktor leaned to the side, his chin hooking over Yuuri’s shoulder as his nose moved to nuzzle into his Yuuri’s neck.  

“You won’t make a fool of yourself. Even if you mess up, people love to watch you skate, they love to watch the way your body makes music all on its own. You’re breathtaking, Yuuri.” 

Yuuri’s soft chuckle jostled Viktor slightly, pressing his face further into Yuuri’s throat and allowing his lips access to Yuuri’s skin, leaving whispering breaths of kisses over every inch he could reach. Yuuri laughed again, hiking his shoulder up in response and trying to move away from the tickling brush of Viktor’s lips. 

Viktor’s arms reached out to wrap around Yuuri’s waist, keeping him in place as he pressed more frantic kisses across his flesh, moving down to drag his lips over Yuuri’s shoulders and over his jaw, allowing his icepack to fall away. 

“Viktor!” Yuuri laughed, hands resting over where Viktor’s arms were locked around his stomach but making no move to dislodge him. Yuuri’s laughter petered off into quiet breaths as Viktor slowed his lips, leaving one last sweet kiss to Yuuri’s neck before pulling back slowly. 

Yuuri turned to look him over with a frown, noticing the icepack now resting on the comforter. He turned in Viktor’s embrace and reached up to press down on his shoulders. Viktor pouted, but willingly released his hold around Yuuri and laid back against the bed. 

Yuuri pulled up Viktor’s shirt a few inches, gaze intent on the chilled, red skin of Viktor’s hip. “How is it feeling?” 

“It’s alright, it always gets sore after I do my programs, I’ll be okay for tomorrow.” 

Yuuri looked put-out by his words but nodded, biting his lip and looking up to meet Viktor’s eyes. Viktor tilted his head to the side, unsure what Yuuri was looking for. Before he could voice his confusion, Yuuri ducked down to press his lips to Viktor’s cold, rosy skin. The stark contrast between Yuuri’s body heat the Viktor’s numb skin was enough to make Viktor jolt slightly, sending Yuuri up on his knees and backing away quickly. 

“Oh god, I’m sorry, I should have asked! I’m so sorry!” Yuuri said, his head down and his eyes squeezed shut. Viktor bit at his lip, smiling as a bright blush spread from the roots of Yuuri’s hair down past the neckline of his shirt. 

“Why are you apologizing?” Viktor asked, all of his strength going into keeping himself from grinning too widely. He found it more difficult the longer Yuuri flushed, fiddling with his fingers in his lap. Viktor could hardly be expected to contain the adoration he felt for this man when at any moment he was sure he would burst with it. “Yuuri,” he said softly, drawing Yuuri’s reluctant gaze up to his. 

“Sorry, Viktor, I didn’t mean to…” 

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Viktor said, reaching out for Yuuri again. Yuuri frowned, looking between Viktor’s hands and his hip suspiciously. 

“Didn’t I hurt you?” he asked as he crawled forward on the bed. Viktor shook his head, smiling as he took Yuuri’s hands. 

“I just wasn’t expecting the heat difference, don’t worry about it. Keep going.” 

Yuuri peeked up at Viktor through his eyelashes for a brief moment before nodding and leaning down to pull Viktor’s shirt up again and brushing his lips over chilled skin. It took all of Viktor’s willpower to hold back a shudder, hoping not to scare Yuuri away again. 

Yuuri’s lips were gone in a moment, his face pressing into Viktor’s stomach instead and his arms wrapping around Viktor’s ribs. 

“This is embarrassing.” 

“No, no, you’re doing great,” Viktor said, hoping he didn’t sound too breathless. Yuuri looked up at Viktor slowly, as if he expected something catastrophic to happen as soon as their eyes met. Viktor just grinned, his eyes clear and adoring. Yuuri’s blush deepened as he ducked his head down again. 

“I just…” Yuuri trailed off, his voice barely above a whisper, his breath ghosting over Viktor’s skin and making his eyes flutter closed for just a moment. “I want you to know that no matter what happens to your hip, I...I still love everything about you. Even if you have to get it replaced or...or you can’t do another season, or  _ anything _ , you’re still perfect. You’re still the legendary  Viktor Nikiforov.” Yuuri leaned down to press more confident kisses to Viktor’s skin, lips pulling into a smile when Viktor’s fingers threaded through his hair.  

“You’re so romantic tonight, моё золотце,” Viktor said. Yuuri laughed and Viktor suppressed another shudder, dragging his nails over Yuuri’s scalp lightly. 

“I just...I know that you worry about how this makes you look to other people, but it won’t change the way I feel about you, not ever.” 

“Thank you, Yuuri,” Viktor murmured, his heart pounding and his head swimming. Yuuri pushed himself up on the bed, bringing his face closer to Viktor’s with a grin. Yuuri’s lips pressed against Viktor’s and Viktor’s hands easily slipped from Yuuri’s hair to his jaw, holding him close, never wanting it to end. 

It had to, he knew that, but it still felt too soon when Yuuri pulled away to take a breath, eyes looking into Viktor’s with so much adoration that Viktor thought he might pass out. 

“Ты такая красивая. Я тебя люблю,” he whispered, and Yuuri’s smiled widened. 

“愛してるよ, Viktor.”

__

 

“Pork cutlet bowl! There you are!” Yuri shouted the next morning, glaring across the lobby of the hotel as Yuuri and Viktor stepped off the elevator. 

“Yurio!” Viktor chimed, drawing a tired expression from Yuri before his eyes settled on Yuuri again. 

“It’s not even time to leave yet, what’s going on?” Yuuri asked. “You could have gotten us in our room if it’s something important.” 

Yuri made a face, shoving his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt and turning his gaze downward. 

“I assumed you two were... _ busy _ .”

Yuuri’s cheeks were burning so hot he was worried his glasses would start to fog up. 

“Wh-why would you think  _ that _ ?” Yuuri sputtered, desperately trying to ignore the smirk on Viktor’s lips as his arm snaked around Yuuri’s waist. 

Yuri’s responding scowl was venomous. 

“You hardly ever take this long to leave your room, what was I supposed to think?” 

“I just wanted to make sure that Viktor’s hip was properly warmed up s-since it was hurting after the short program, and I just didn’t want anything to happen,” Yuuri said speaking through his hands after covering his face with them in a poor attempt to hide the still-burning blush across his face. 

Yuri scoffed, rolling his eyes and keeping his eyes averted. 

“Whatever.” 

“What did you want to talk to Yuuri about?” Viktor asked, salvaging the conversation to the best of his ability and making Yuuri’s shoulders relax slightly. 

“I just...wanted to talk about my program,” Yuri said quietly, his face twisting into a nasty grimace. 

“Were you...going to ask me for advice?” Yuuri asked, making Yuri look even angrier as he shrugged. 

“So what?” 

“I...we can still talk. I-If you want, I don’t mind,” Yuuri said in a rush, eyes flickering between Yuri and Viktor. Viktor just smiled, pressing a kiss to Yuuri’s cheek before releasing his hold around his hip and stepping back. 

“You two go ahead, I wanted to talk to Mila and Georgi about a few things. Yuuri, I’ll see you at the rink,” he said. Yuuri nodded. 

“Don’t do anything reckless,” he said, making Viktor laugh as he walked away. 

__

“Oh, Yuuri!” Phichit called as Yuuri was warming up at the rink. Yuuri looked up with a start but smiled upon recognizing his friend. Guang-Hong and Leo followed after Phichit and Yuuri’s smile brightened even further, leaving a pleasant ache in his cheeks. 

“Where’s Viktor?” Leo asked, looking down the hallway and lifting his eyebrows in question.

“He’s with Yakov, making sure that everything is good with his hip,” Yuuri said, a noticeable tinge of anxiety biting at the edges of his tone and making the other three skaters tense up slightly. 

“I’m sure he’ll be alright, Yuuri,” Guang-Hong said, prompting Phichit and Leo to nod along with him. 

“You said that he’s been doing a lot better with taking care of it and everything, right? Everything will be okay,” Phichit said. Yuuri nodded slowly, a little shy. 

“You’re right,” he said, though he still looked tentative. After having been present at the Final, Phichit could understand why. He glanced between Yuuri and Leo and Guang-Hong before moving to Yuuri’s side, despite already having finished his warm-up. You could never be too warm. 

“How about we warm-up with you?” he asked. Yuuri almost looked startled as he looked between the three skaters before him. After a moment, he smiled, nodding quickly. 

“Sure.” 

The following moments were filled with idle chatter and Phichit could see Yuuri’s shoulders slowly relaxing. Not all the way, but enough. 

__

“Our next skater of the evening is Minami Kenjiro of Japan. This is his first time at the World Championships since his senior debut two years ago. He has said that Yuuri Katsuki is his biggest inspiration in skating.” 

Minami shook his hands out in front of him, letting out a steadying breath as he skated around the rink slowly. There were so many people, it was like their presence alone was making the rink sweltering. Breathing all the air. Melting the ice. 

“Minami! 頑張って !” 

Minami looked up and around the rink with wide eyes. Yuuri waved at him, Viktor at his side and waving as well. Minami’s heart stuttered in his chest as he nodded, determination pumping through his veins and loosening his muscles. 

He skated to center ice and took another slow breath. It would be okay. 

The first notes of his music floated through the rink like feathers caught on a gentle breeze, and it was as if the entire arena froze over again, breathing life into him as he moved. 

“His first jump will be a quadruple toe-loop.” 

_ “Oh! Um, Minami?” Viktor’s voice seemed to echo in the empty hallway. Minami jumped, stumbling into the wall beside him before turning around and spotting Viktor running toward him.  _

_ “U-um, yes?” he asked, trying to calm his racing heart. Viktor stopped a few feet away from him with a pleasant smile. Minami idly wondered where Yuuri was when Viktor spoke again.  _

_ “I wanted to thank you for staying with Yuuri through his panic attack at Nationals. I know...that they can be scary to see, and I’m grateful that you stayed with him despite that.”  _

_ “O-of course!” Minami shouted, clenching his fists and shaking his head, trying to get his thoughts straight as Viktor shifted on his feet. “I couldn’t just...leave him there.”  _

_ “You’d be surprised how many people would have, especially after he started to talk on the phone. I know that Yuuri appreciated it a lot, but I think he’s a bit embarrassed about everything.”  _

_ “He shouldn’t be!” Minami argued, feeling more confident as his heart slowed down in his chest. “It wasn’t his fault, he shouldn’t feel bad about it.”  _

_ Viktor’s smile was sad as he nodded, looking away from Minami’s gaze.  _

_ “It’s something he’s working on. Either way, I’m grateful to you,” Viktor said. “Your short program was great, I look forward to watching your free skate tonight.”  _

_ With that, Viktor turned and walked away and Minami stood frozen, watching him go and feeling a pleasant warmth building up in the pit of his stomach.  _

“Excellent, what a clean landing!” 

__

“The score for Minami Kenjirou is 164.87. His final score is 246.34. He is currently in first place.

__

“Next on the ice is Phichit Chulanont of Thailand, who has been making his mark the past two seasons with his unique skating style.” 

The crowd was buzzing just like his skin as Phichit made his way around the rink, waving and grinning brightly. He was going to make his mark. He knew he would.  

As soon as it started, he could feel his music dancing across his skin as the cool air of the rink settled around him and his blades cut through the ice. “His first jump will be a triple axel-triple salchow combination.” 

_ “Do you want some champagne, Yuuri?” Phichit asked at the Grand Prix Final banquet. Yuuri pursed his lips, looking across the room to where Viktor was chatting quietly with Chris and shook his head.  _

_ “Viktor might need something, it’s fine.”  _

_ “I know that you’re worried about him, we all are,” Phichit said, taking a seat beside Yuuri and fiddling with his phone to keep his hands occupied. “But he insisted on coming to the banquet because he wanted you to have fun. He doesn’t want you to worry yourself sick over him.”  _

_ Yuuri nodded like he had already heard everything Phichit was saying before.  _

_ “You already know that I can’t just turn it off,” he mumbled. “And the doctor trusted him in my care, I can’t start drinking when I’m supposed to be making sure he doesn’t have some kind of complication.” _

_ “You know that we’re all here for you guys, right? All of us want Viktor to feel better and we want to make this easier on both of you.”  _

_ “I wouldn’t feel right putting this on any of you, I should be taking care of him. Don’t worry about it,” Yuuri said quickly, eyes tracking Viktor’s movements around the room. Phichit pursed his lips, leaning his shoulder down to nudge Yuuri playfully.  _

_ “It’s not like we’re being forced to do anything, Yuuri. We want to help out in any way we can.”  _

_ Yuuri nodded, but his face was still twisted in a grimace.  _

_ “I just wish I could make him feel better. I wish that I could  _ do  _ something for him, but I can’t. I feel so helpless.” Yuuri’s voice was so quiet that Phichit had to lean in slightly closer to hear him, biting at his lip as he understood Yuuri’s words.  _

_ “I’m sure that being there for him is doing more than you think it is.”  _

_ “Yuuri! Come dance with me!” Viktor chimed from the middle of the room, waving to Yuuri and Phichit as he did. His smile was clearly forced and a little pained, but it was obvious that he was doing everything in his power to hide it. Yuuri pursed his lips, glancing to Phichit and then back to Viktor before standing and making his way toward his fiance.  _

_ “Just one, and just a slow dance,” Yuuri said and Phichit grinned as he stood up and made his way towards Chris, who stood alone after Viktor made his way toward Yuuri.  _

_ “Looks like this won’t be anything like last year’s banquet since Viktor can’t drink, but I’m glad he seems better than he did at the hospital,” Chris said, nursing a half-empty glass of champagne. Phichit smiled, nodding and watching as Yuuri and Viktor danced across the floor slowly, swaying and leaning on one another in a tight embrace.  _

_ Viktor’s arms wrapped around Yuuri’s waist, hands settled on his lower back. Yuuri smiled as he held the back of Viktor’s head and let Viktor’s chin press into his shoulder.  _

_ Even stressed and worried, Yuuri looked happy wrapped in Viktor’s arms, and it sent a rush of pride through Phichit’s chest. He was so glad that Yuuri was happy and his skin thrummed with joy at the sight. Chris smirked beside him as Phichit lifted his phone and took a quick snapshot of the couple swaying at the center of the room.  _

 

_ [image] _

_ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅  _

**_♥ christophe-gc_ ** _ , and  _ **_13 others_ **

**_phichit+chu_ ** _ GPF Banquet 2016 (feat. slow dancing) #phichit #final #banquet #christophegiacometti #viktornikiforov #yuurikatsuki  _

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_ 5 minutes ago _

“A slight over rotation on the triple sal, but overall two beautiful jumps!” 

__

“The score for Phichit Chulanont is 199.71. His final score is 299.2. He is currently in third place. 

__

“Please welcome our next skater on the ice, Georgi Papovich of Russia. His theme this season is ‘New Love.’” 

Georgi smiled softly as he skated around the rink, waving to the crowd. A flood of calmness fell over him as he stopped at the center of the rink and took his opening pose, waiting with bated breath for the first notes of his music to reach him. When they did, his body moved easily, unhindered. 

“His first jump will be a quadruple salchow.” 

_ “Why did Viktor ask us to bring Yuuri out, anyway?” Mila asked, watching as Yuuri walking a few feet in front of them, eyes catching on everything around them. “Wouldn’t it be more fun if they went sight-seeing  _ together _?”  _

_ “He said he was working on a surprise for Yuuri,” Georgi answered with a gentle sigh, a smile tugging on his lips. “Their love for each other is so beautiful.”  _

_ “It’s not like I don’t want to hang out with Yuuri or anything, I just hope he isn’t doing something reckless,” Mila said, a smile of her own growing as Yuuri stopped at a small shop, looking at a small poodle figurine.  _

_ “Yuri’s with him anyway, he’ll be alright,” Georgi said as Yuuri looked over at them.  _

_ “Do you think Viktor would like this?” Yuuri asked, holding the small figure. “I know that people don’t celebrate birthdays before the day of in Russia, but since I won’t see him…” he trailed off and Mila and Georgi’s eyes met briefly, making a silent pact to make sure Yuuri had a great time before looking back to Yuuri, whose face had twisted up in indecision.  _

_ “He would probably love anything you gave him,” Mila said. Georgi nodded.  _

_ “Why don’t we go look at a few more historic landmarks, and you can think about whether you want to buy it or not,” Georgi suggested. Yuuri nodded slowly, setting the small figure back down and allowing Mila to pull him along down the road.  _

_ “Has Viktor ever brought you to the House of Books?” Mila asked. Georgi could feel a sense of pride filling his chest as Yuuri’s shoulders relaxed and he slowly started to look like he was actually enjoying himself.  _

“Beautiful landing!” 

__

“The score for Georgi Popovich is 165.81. His final score is 265.41. He is currently in sixth place.” 

__

“Our next skater on the ice is Yuri Plisetsky, also from Russia. He has been relearning many of his jumps due to a growth spurt early in the season. He has said that he’s nearly back to his former abilities already.” 

Yuri’s hands were shaking. He knew that taking gold was a long-shot, but he wanted to prove that he was still the same skater he was at the last Grand Prix Final. He wanted everyone to see that it wasn’t a lucky season, that he wasn’t just a one-season champion. He could do this. 

His hands clenched into fists at his sides as he took a deep breath, rolling his shoulders as he took his starting position at the center of the rink. 

He could do this. 

“He will start with a quadruple salchow.” 

_ “What did you want advice on, Yuri?” Yuuri asked once they reached a secluded area in the hotel, leaning against a wall. Yuri fidgeted with the hem of his sweatshirt, remembering Otabek’s advice, telling him to talk to Yuuri about how he felt.  _

_ “I’m not—” he cut himself off with an angry grunt, tightening his fists until his knuckles blanched. “This is stupid.”  _

_ “Whatever you want to talk about isn’t stupid, Yuri. You can talk to me, it’s alright. I won’t tell anyone if that’s what you’re worried about.”  _

_ Yuri’s sharp glare reached Yuuri’s and made him flinch slightly, laughing quietly as he looked down the hallway.  _

_ “Not even Viktor?”  _

_ “Not if you don’t want me to.”  _

_ Yuri huffed at Yuuri’s answer, kicking his foot over the tiled flooring, silence sitting heavily between them. He tried to think of how to word what he wanted to say without sounding weak, or like he was giving up, because he wasn’t. He just needed more time.  _

_ “It seems like…” he started, his glare intensifying the longer he waited to continue. Yuuri stood silently, letting him figure out what he wanted to say without interrupting. Allowing Yuri the time he needed to get everything out. “I might need more time...to be able to kick your ass again. But don’t expect me to go easy on you no matter what!”  _

_ Yuuri grinned, and Yuri wanted to take everything back immediately as his chest started to warm up, a gentle pulse through his ribcage. “Don’t get used to being at the top of the podium, pork cutlet bowl!”  _

_ “I’ll be excited to see your new programs.”  _

“Perfect quad sal. Now, a spiral into a triple axel!” 

_ “Just give it up for today, moron!” Yuri shouted as Viktor crashed into the ice again after another failed quadruple loop. He was landing them about thirty percent of the time, but when he fell, it was painful to watch, even for Yuri.  _

_ “I’m so close,” Viktor said, voice tinged in desperation, standing on wobbling legs. He winced once he straightened up, hands moving to his hip with a quiet groan.  _

_ “You’re just going to ruin everything if you work too hard on this. There’s still time, dumbass,” Yuri said, leaning against the boards with his hair pulled up and away from  his face to observe Viktor’s jumps better. “Don’t be an idiot.”  _

_ “It’s nearly time, I need to make this perfect.”  _

_ “Why are you so intent on doing this stupid jump in time for Worlds, anyway?”  _

_ “When Yuuri first did the quad flip in competition, I was so overwhelmed, I...I just want to surprise him the way he always seems to surprise me.”  _

_ Yuri rolled his eyes with a groan, leaning on the boards and dropping his arms over the sides in exasperation.  _

_ “What’s so special about  _ this  _ jump, anyway?”  _

_ “It’s not the jump itself, really. I just want to show Yuuri that I can still improve...that I can still...surprise him.” Viktor’s voice trailed off as he spoke, looking down at the ice and swallowing thickly. His legs were still shaking, and Yuri glared at him, eyes zeroing in on his hip.  _

_ “Surprising him isn’t what’s keeping him interested in you, you know,” Yuri said. “And anyway, why do I have to tell you this? Don’t you ever talk to him?”  _

_ Viktor shook his head, and Yuri could briefly see the scar on his giant forehead as his hair moved back and forth gently.  _

_ “It’s not that...Yuuri just...he surprises me all the time, and I just...I want to surprise him, too.”  _

_ Yuri rolled his eyes before sighing softly, propping his elbow up on the boards and leaning his chin in his open palm.  _

_ “Whatever. Just try it two more times, after that you seriously need to stop before you break your hip or something stupid like that.”  _

_ Viktor nodded, taking a quick breath to prepare himself before he started skating again, moving around the rink a few times before setting himself up for his quadruple loop. He landed it, though it was wobbly and sloppy, he had done it. Yuri sighed, trying not to look too interested when Viktor managed a second one, even if his landing was worse than the first one. His legs were shaking so badly, Yuri was surprised he had managed to land at all. _

_ “It’s about time,” he said. “Mila and Georgi were going to run out of places to take the pork cutlet bowl if you didn’t start landing that more consistently.”  _

_ Viktor laughed, stepping off the ice, his knees knocking together before he all but collapsed onto the bench behind Yuri. He groaned softly, clearly trying to cover it up but failing miserably. His eyes shut tightly as he rubbed his hip. Yuri gnashed his teeth together as he whirled around and shot his most heated glare in Viktor’s direction. “I swear to god, Viktor, if you even  _ try  _ to come to practice tomorrow, I’ll kick your ass. And I’ll tell Yakov that you’re practicing this jump more than you should be.”  _

_ “Got it,” Viktor said, though he was still smiling more than Yuri would have liked. He scoffed.  _

“He fell on the axel, but it looked like it had enough rotations!” 

__

“The score for Yuri Plisetsky is 199.37. His final score is 300.81. He is currently in third place.”

__

“Our next skater on the ice is Yuuri Katsuki of Japan. Katsuki has taken several gold medals throughout this season, and his coach, Viktor Nikiforov, has assured us that he intends to take many more in the coming years.” 

Yuuri waved to the audience as he skated around the rink with a wide grin. His stomach was still twisting and his hands were shaking, but he felt good. He felt ready. He could feel Viktor’s eyes on his back as he took his starting position. 

The air wrapped around his body, a chilly silence enveloping him and soothing the nervous ache in his lungs. He would be okay. 

“He will start with a quadruple toe loop.” 

_ “Viktor, I’m back, are you…?” Yuuri paused in the doorway, staring. It was a week after they returned to St. Petersburg after the Final, and Viktor was in the middle of the living room stretched out with a yoga mat beneath him. He was propped up on the couch with his right knee, his left leg extended on the mat behind him. He leaned forward into the stretch.  _

_ As soon as the door closed behind Yuuri, Viktor’s head shot up and he smiled brightly.  _

_ “Yuuri! Welcome home! I found a way to do that pose the doctor recommended without hurting myself,” he said. Yuuri tried to keep his eyes focused on Viktor’s face, but he knew he wasn’t doing a very good job of it.  _

_ “That’s great, Viktor,” he said, a wobbly smile on his lips as he allowed his gaze to dart down Viktor’s form for only a moment before meeting his eyes again. Viktor was smirking.  Of course he was. “U-um, are you almost done or did you need to stretch your hip some more?” Yuuri asked, throat suddenly dry and sore as his face burned.  _

_ “I still have a few more stretches to do,” Viktor said, not moving from his position and looking straight into Yuuri’s eyes. Yuuri nodded, glancing away and biting at his lip. “Would you like to join me, солнышко?”  _

_ Yuuri looked from Viktor to the ground and back to Viktor again before nodding. He laid his bag down beside the wall before stepping up beside Viktor and fidgeting, trying to decide what to do. Viktor breathed out a soft laugh before moving up on the couch and sitting down, reaching out to grab Yuuri’s wrist and tugging him forward gently.  _

_ Yuuri stumbled into the couch, his knees hitting the cushions and jolting him to a stop right in front of Viktor, who was looking up at him with shining eyes. He pulled on Yuuri’s wrist again, guiding his hand down until it rested on his hip and their faces were a breath apart. “You know that you can just kiss me whenever you want to, right, солнышко?”  _

_ Yuuri’s breath hitched and a wave of heat rushed through his body, settling in his face as he was sure a blush spread up to his ears and down his neck. He stared into Viktor’s amused gaze before pulling his hands up to cover his face and groan.  _

_ “ _ Viktor _!” he huffed, trying not to smile as Viktor’s arms wrapped around his waist.  _

_ “Aww, Yuuri, you don’t want to kiss me?” he teased, fingers slipping under Yuuri’s shirt and drifting over the skin of his lower back. Yuuri tried not to laugh, but his shoulders were already shaking. He dropped his hands to Viktor’s shoulders and sighed as he looked down at the other man. Viktor beamed up at him.  _

_ Yuuri kissed him, unable to resist.  _

“Gorgeous quad toe! Katsuki is laying it all on the ice tonight, folks!” 

_ “I can’t do it, Yuuri,” Viktor said one night as Nationals approached them. It was late, and Viktor’s hip had been bothering him since the morning. To make things worse, a nasty headache had started plaguing him as practice ended.  _

_ Viktor’s head laid in Yuuri’s lap, face pressed to Yuuri’s stomach as he shook his head and gripped the back of Yuuri’s shirt.  _

_ “What can’t you do?” Yuuri asked softly, fingers tangling in Viktor’s messy hair. He desperately tried to regulate his breathing, to stay calm for Viktor. To be strong for him.  _

_ “I can’t go back. No one wants to watch me skate.”  _

_ “That’s not true, Vitya. A lot of people want to watch you skate.”  _

_ “My hip is too far gone,” Viktor argued, voice muffled by Yuuri’s shirt. “I can’t skate the way I used to.”  _

_ “Then don’t,” Yuuri said, drawing Viktor’s shocked gaze up to him.  _

_ “Wh-what? You said...”  _

_ “ _ Don’t _ skate the way you used to. You were tired of that anyway, so do something different. Skate the way your hip allows you to and make it your own. That’s what you’re best at.”  _

_ Viktor tucked his face against Yuuri’s stomach again, and his body stopped shaking as he breathed slowly.  _

_ “Thank you, Yuuri.”  _

_ Yuuri smiled, running his hand over the back of Viktor’s head and down to his back in comfort.  _

_ “Don’t worry about it. Let me make you a cup of tea and get the heating pad, okay?”  _

“Quadruple flip, triple toe loop! Perfect landing!” 

Yuuri could feel the air of the rink brushing his skin as he skated, flying over the ice, desperate to show the world who he was. He wanted everyone to see what Viktor was capable of as a coach. That he put so much work into giving Yuuri as much time as he needed and perfecting his own routines. Viktor did so much for Yuuri this season, and Yuuri wanted everyone to see that. Every reporter who disputed Viktor’s qualifications as a coach, every person who ever doubted Viktor’s ability to coach and skate at the same time. Yuuri wanted to show all of them what Viktor could do, what he had already done. 

Yuuri would prove them all wrong. And so would Viktor. 

“His final jump will be a quadruple flip.” 

_ “Pork cutlet bowl!” Yuri shouted, his voice shaking. Yuuri’s head whipped away from Phichit at the sound. It was right after the short program, and Viktor had yet to return from his meeting with Yakov.  _

_ “Yurio, what—?”  _

_ “It’s Viktor,” Yuri said, and cold, heavy dread settled in the pit of Yuuri’s stomach. Yuuri turned to Phichit to apologize, but Phichit’s hands were already on his shoulders, pushing him forward.  _

_ “Go, Yuuri.”  _

_ Yuuri’s steps were uncoordinated, his legs trembling as he followed after Yuri. They ended up in a small, secluded room. A crowd of Russian skaters stood around someone seated in a short fold-out chair.  _

_ “Viktor!” Yuuri said, scrambling forward. Mila and Georgi moved out of the way immediately, allowing Yuuri to kneel down beside Viktor and grab his hand. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”  _

_ He had seemed fine after his short program, what happened? Had he been hiding his pain from Yuuri again? Viktor smiled uneasily down at Yuuri, squeezing his hand quickly.  _

_ “I’m okay, I just need to rest for a moment. The short program took a lot out of me, is all.”  _

_ “Is it your hip?” Yuuri asked. Viktor nodded reluctantly. “Did it hurt before you skated? Why didn’t you tell me?”  _

_ “No, Yuuri,” Viktor said quickly, squeezing Yuuri’s hand again. “It didn’t hurt before, I would have told you, солнышко.” _

_ Yuuri looked into Viktor’s tired eyes. He knew that Viktor was having the same realization that he was. Viktor might not last for another season. With the way his hip was, it was possible that he had skated his last short program in a competition, and that thought settled heavily in Yuuri’s stomach, twisting with the leftover dread still swimming there. _

_ He squeezed Viktor’s hand again. _

“A perfect quad flip!” 

When Yuuri took his final pose, gasping and smiling as his eyes found Viktor already waiting for him at the rink gate. Yakov was beside him with his arms crossed over his chest. Yuuri couldn’t stop himself from skating forward, desperate to feel Viktor’s arms around him as fast as possible. 

The cheers were deafening, blending together into a monstrous conglomeration of noise. But none of that mattered as Viktor’s arms wrapped around his waist. Viktor whispered rushed praise, mostly in Russian, but the intent was clear as Yuuri squeezed his shoulders tightly, just wanting him to know, just needing to confirm that Viktor saw, that he understood. 

“I’m sorry I can’t go with you,” Viktor finally whispered, but Yuuri shook his head, squeezing Viktor’s shoulders once more before pulling back and grinning, running his fingertips over Viktor’s cheeks and down to his jaw. 

“No, don’t be. Just do your best, I believe in you, Viktor.” 

Viktor nodded, leaving a fleeting kiss on Yuuri’s cheek before letting him go and watching him walk toward the Kiss and Cry. Yuuri could feel a flush of warmth and happiness mix with the adrenaline still pumping through his body. 

__

“The score for Yuuri Katsuki is 219.73. His final score is 321.94. He is currently in first place.” 

__

Viktor watched Yuuri go, his heart in his throat and his stomach twisting. Yakov’s hand on his shoulder made him jump. 

“Go, Vitya, you’ll be fine.” 

Viktor took the ice with wobbly legs and trembling fingers. He would show everyone that he could still skate. He would show everyone that Yuuri wasn’t wrong to believe in him. 

He took his opening pose at the center of the rink and everything grew silent, as if something amazing was going to happen. As if the expectations of the crowd weighed down their own voices, leaving nothing but the sound of Viktor’s own breathing. 

“Our last skater of the the night is Viktor Nikiforov. He dazzled the crowd last night with his short program, leaving him in first place. He revealed at a press conference that he has been battling arthritis in his hip since the beginning of the season, and wishes to skate despite that.” 

His music started and pulled him across the ice, filling his body and moving him to its sound of its own accord. 

“His first jump is a quad toe loop.” 

_ Viktor stared down at his hands in his lap as silence filled the space between him and JJ beside him.  _

_ “So, arthritis?” JJ asked, leaning back against the wall behind them. Viktor just nodded, not sure what else to do. “That’s rough.” JJ’s voice was quieter than usual and Viktor spared a glance to the side, seeing JJ looking pensive.  _

_ “It’s not a very bad case yet.”  _

_ JJ nodded with a shrug before he spoke again, voice still soft.  _

_ “When I first hurt my back, I thought it was all over,” JJ said, and Viktor’s interest piqued, eyes glancing to JJ fully. “I thought that a stupid mistake had cost me my career.”  _

_ “It was probably worse for you, since you’re so young,” Viktor said. JJ shrugged.  _

_ “Isn’t the desire to be on the ice the same not matter how much time you have left on it?” he asked. Viktor found that he couldn’t respond, looking JJ over with a deep frown. He thought for another long moment before his gaze dropped to his hands again.  _

_ “I suppose you’re right.”  _

“Touch down on the landing, but still a beautiful jump!” 

_ The adrenaline was flooding through him as he moved across the ice during his short program. His hip felt open and his body was light, everything was perfect. He could feel himself being consumed by his music.  _

_ But as soon as it came time for his lutz, he almost stumbled, trying not to think too much and distract himself. He had done this jump thousands of times, he knew he was far enough away from the boards.  _

_ He willed away the images that flashed in his mind of Yuuri worried and scared and crying. He willed away the self-deprecation, thinking of the way Yuuri held his hand before he stepped onto the ice, of the way Yuuri had encouraged him. Yuuri believed in him, Yuuri knew that he could do this.  _

_ He spun around and set himself up for the quadruple lutz, taking a deep breath before digging his toe pick into the ice and pushing off.  _

_ He almost hadn’t noticed when he landed, the deafening roar of the crowd falling like a whisper on his ears as his heart thrummed too loudly for him to hear much of anything else.  _

_ “Quadruple Lutz! And what a magnificent landing!”  _

This was his moment. If he was going to do this jump, to surprise Yuuri, he had to do it in that moment. He moved through his program, his skin tingling with anticipation. Yakov would probably yell at him, but that was okay. It was worth it. He took a deep breath.

“His last quad he has planned in a combination. Quadruple toe—wait! He changed it to a quad loop! Incredible! And followed by a perfect triple toe loop and a triple salchow! Nikiforov is the third skater in history to land a quad loop in competition! It looks like he’s still not done surprising us!” 

The rest of Viktor’s program was a blur and when he blinked, he realized he was in his final pose. He stood, slowly, waving at the crowd and doing a quick lap around to show his gratitude when he spotted Yuuri at the rink gate. 

Viktor was skating forward without a second thought. 

Yuuri nearly collapsed with the weight of Viktor jumping on him, but managed to stay vertical, his arms around Viktor’s body and holding him tightly, securely. 

“A  _ quad loop _ , are you insane?” Yuuri asked into Viktor’s shoulder, shaking his head but not letting Viktor go. 

“Were you surprised?” Viktor asked, pulling away slightly to look into Yuuri’s eyes. Yuuri’s smile was a touch exasperated as he nodded. 

“Something like that. How are you feeling?” 

“Good, so good,” Viktor said as he grabbed Yuuri’s jaw and pulled him in for a quick kiss when his feelings started to overflow, his heart beating and aching and pounding in his ears. “Я тебя люблю,” he whispered, repeating it like a mantra as he placed more kisses to Yuuri’s lips. Yuuri responded in kind, chuckling into each press of their lips and repeating his own responses as Viktor spoke. 

Yakov managed to get them to the Kiss and Cry after another few moments, the pair of them sitting with their thighs pressed flush against each other. 

“The score for Viktor Nikiforov is 210.56. His final score is 320.95. He is in second place.” 

Viktor stared at the scoreboard for a long moment before he turned to Yuuri who looked both worried and happy. Viktor pulled him into another kiss in the hopes of quelling his worry. He didn’t think he had ever been this proud in his entire life, and all he wanted to do was kiss Yuuri and tell him just how proud he was. 

Yuuri kissed him back slowly before reaching up to hold Viktor’s jaw and kissed back with confidence. Yakov cleared his throat beside them, and Yuuri jumped back immediately, cheeks a lovely pink. 

__

“The final scores are as follows.” 

**Yuuri Katsuki** **1st** **102.21** **219.73** **321.94**

 **Viktor Nikiforov** **2nd** **110.39** **210.56** **320.95**

 **Christophe Giacometti** **3rd** **104.90** **197.93** **302.83**

 **Otabek Altin** **4th** **102.19** **200.61** **302.80**

 **Yuri Plisetsky** **5th** **101.44** **199.37** **300.81**

 **Jean-Jacques Leroy** **6th** **100.66** **198.36** **299.02**

 **Phichit Chulanont** **7th** **99.49** **199.71** **299.20**

 **Emil Nekola** **8th** **99.89** **193.55** **293.44**

 **Michele Crispino** **9th** **97.35** **195.77** **293.12**

 **Seung-gil Lee** **10th** **95.17** **178.22** **273.39**

 **Leo de la Iglesia** **11th** **95.96** **173.42** **269.38**

 **Georgi Popovich** **12th** **99.60** **165.81** **265.41**

 **Guang Hong Ji** **13th** **93.58** **170.33** **263.91**

 **Kenjirou Minami** **14th** **81.47** **164.87** **246.34**

**...**

__

Yuuri stood at the center of the podium with Viktor to his left and Chris to his right, and he was sure he was dreaming. He felt a tug on his medal as the camera flashes died down and glanced over to see Viktor pulling Yuuri’s gold medal to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to it. 

Before Yuuri could respond, Viktor’s arms were wrapping around his waist and pulling him down a step. Viktor’s lips met his and everything around them disappeared. Yuuri’s mind was floating  until Viktor pulled back, looking over Yuuri’s face. 

“Next season,” he said, his eyes shining with a childlike glee. “I’ll take my record back from you.” 

Yuuri’s stomach flipped as he nodded, lips meeting Viktor’s in a rushed, clumsy kiss. He didn’t care that it might have been an empty promise, he didn’t care that Viktor’s future was muddled and questionable. The spark in Viktor’s eyes was enough. Whatever happened, it was enough. 

“I look forward to it.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, this is it isn’t it? This is the end! I really hope that you’ve all enjoyed the ride and you like how it ended. This is really surreal, honestly, but I hope that I’ve done a good job, and that I’ve kept up with your expectations of this story, that your hopes have been fulfilled. I wanted to ending to be a bit open, so that’s sort of why it’s like that. I hope it's okay;; If you have questions or you want to talk about this story (or my upcoming ones) you can find me on Tumblr! [@v-k-niliforv](https://v-k-niliforv.tumblr.com/) ((so many tumblr links)) (([HERE](https://the-katuki-niliforv.tumblr.com/) AGAIN PLEASE))
> 
> I have a few stories coming up, a quick oneshot parent au, a movie au based on some art that’ll also probably be a long oneshot. 
> 
> The stories I’m most excited for are an au based on an original story concept I’m working on. My original story will be a comic, and my artist partner is really excited at the prospect of a yoi au fic of it. So if you want to ask me questions about that feel free on my tumblr!! actualyuuri (or braveten) on tumblr also goaded me into writing a Cop!AU so you can also look forward to that, it’ll be a little less serious than this or my other au and it’ll be multi-chaptered as well!! Yay! So that’ll be fun i guess haha
> 
> If I’ve made any mistakes language or figure skating-wise in the prose, please let me know and I will love you forever!! (also if i’ve forgotten a translation please let me know as well and I’ll add it back in!) 
> 
> Translations:  
> солнышко - sunshine/my sunshine  
> моё золотце - my gold  
> Mon soleil - my sun  
> Я тебя люблю - I love you  
> 愛してるよ - I love you  
> Ты такая красивая - You’re so beautiful  
> 頑張って - Good luck!/ Do your best!
> 
> If you have a minute and something to say please leave me a comment and tell me what you thought and if you enjoyed the story (or not)!! Thank you again to all of those who commented and left kudos and read as I updated this story, you all gave me so many feelings, and I appreciated your presence throughout the process <3 
> 
> Have a great day and a wonderful week everyone. Stay safe <3
> 
> ~JD


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